#and he tries to play it off as hes an idiot and a lot of the fae actually believe its not ALL an act

[moeblob]

Look, I just think it's VERY funny and on brand that I thought of an entire premise of colorful characters for half the cast and immediately drew the only one void of color.

[keeps-ache]

been telling my siblings 'you would NOT make it in vulcan academy' when they do smth goofy recently and nobody's been able to refute lol

[longagoitwastuesday]

Do you have favorite actors for the various roles in "Cyrano de Bergerac"? I would love to hear your thoughts!

I do! I actually rambled a lot about this while I was watching the different productions I could get my hands on (I tagged it "Cyrano de Bergerac" and "I talk too much").

My favorite productions are the one with José Ferrer and the one with Benoit Solès, and those actors make the best Cyranos in my opinion. Though that's probably something in part beyond the actors' choice, their dynamic with their respective Roxane and Christian are the best ones, I think, and I find how Cyrano moves around these two particular characters at the core of a good Cyrano characterisation.

José Ferrer's use of his voice, which is arguably Cyrano's true most characteristic feature, is unmatched imo (although McAvoy does a very good job with this too), and he manauvers very well several of the different aspects of the character, such as his playfulness, his shittiness and longing. By the end of the play you believe he is the most beautiful man on Earth. Cyrano, however, is a bit pathetic (not just in a "pathos" way), and I'd say Ferrer gives off an air full of dignity very fitting of many scenes, but that eats almost entirely this aspect of Cyrano; Benoit Solès manages this very well, while also playing well with some of the other ones, such as the playfulness, the longing, the pain and the despair. Both Ferrer and Solès are hilarious, tender, a bit shitty, vulnerable, playful and sad. Albeit neither of them portrays 100% what Cyrano is, I think both come pretty close in slightly different flavours, and by the end of the play one ends up being terribly fond of them.

My favourite Roxane is Clara Huet in the production with Benoit Solès, but Mala Powers in the 1950 film is a close second. I think they portray wonderfully Roxane's spunk, and her mix of honest playful cheerfulness and her haughtiness, her intelligence and wit, and how much like Cyrano she is.

I've not come to love for now any Christian as much as I've loved Ferrer, Solès, Huet and Powers, but again I think the Christians in the 1950 film and the Solès productions are very very good. I love the dynamic they have with their Cyranos, especially the one Christian and Cyrano have in the 1950 film, enhanced positively by the added scenes (they actually work so well in showing their developing as friends, their deep love and care for each other!). I don't want to expand too much on this to avoid spoilers (beyond the already known 'Christian dies' ones I mean), but some things they do with both these Christians are a thing of genius, and both feel vulnerable, kind, ready to fight and truly desperate at times; I like when they do that.

There's an Italian production which has a Cyrano I truly enjoy as well, despite how they dumbify him more than I usually like my Christians. His mix of anger and deep pain when he discovers Cyrano's feelings for Roxane were so well made, and his physical presence makes you identify who Christian is even before the play starts.

The Podalydès production has two different Christians. The one in the version on youtube isn't bad, but @ride-a-dromedary likes Éric Ruf a lot. I actually adore him based on the clips and gifs she's posted of him, but I haven't been able to find the version with him online, so I can't know. But he truly seems one of the best. Based on what little I've seen, I love his intense gazes and subtle gestures.

I'm not entirely sold on any Le Bret, De Guiche or Ragueneau yet.

I think the German musical has a decent Ragueneau in vibes, and the 1990 French film does as well. I found his poem made song for what I think is a Spanish production (I'm not sure if it's a fan creation based on the Spanish production), and while I've not been able to find that production online, the song works well in vibes too I think.

The German musical's Le Bret in vibes is very good. He encompasses well his deep love and worry for Cyrano while also being done with his shit. They truly feel like close friends. The 1950 film kind of combines Gaston de Castel-Jaloux and Le Bret into one character, which sadly changes Le Bret's dynamic with Cyrano a bit, but that's a very good Le Bret as well. The one in Solès' production is pretty good too. He has my favourite delivery of the scene in which Le Bret chastises Cyrano for risking his life sending letters.

De Guiche is complicated. I think productions often make him too pathetic and laughable or too bad, so bad it makes the last act kind of not make sense. The 1950 one, the 1990 French one, the Kevin Kline one and the Solès one are all good, but I am not passionate for any of them either.

And basically that's it!

[the-sunflower-room]

scared half to death

🌪️tyler owens x fem!reader 

☆ genre: angst, fluff, friends to lovers

☆ wc: 2.7k

☆ summary: tyler owens is not easily angered, but when the love of his life runs into an incoming tornado without a second thought, his emotions get the better of him.

☆ warnings: a very upset tyler, yelling, language

note: so i watched twisters and it was actually everything to me! the brainrot is bad and i’ve been wanting to write for tyler ever since i saw it, so here it is! this is very much the idiots in love trope because it’s one of my favorites. enjoy! :)

“Where is she?”

Tyler isn’t sure if he’s ever felt this angry before. He considers himself a fairly easy going man, always quick to make light of a situation and put everyone in the room at ease with his charming, joking nature.

But this was different. This had his heart pounding, his ears ringing. His face is flushed red and he feels like he can hardly breathe.

All because of her.

He slams the door of his truck, approaching his crew in the gas station parking lot with a look on his face that’s so completely un-Tyler that it makes them all shift uneasily.

“Where’s…who?” Boone tries weakly, unsuccessful in his attempt to play dumb. Lily rolls her eyes and elbows him in the ribs, shooting him a glare.

Tyler clenches his jaw, for once not in the mood for his friends’ antics. “You know damn well who I’m talking about.”

They all exchange glances, his uncharacteristic demeanor both surprising and concerning. This isn’t the calm, charismatic frontman of the Tornado Wranglers they’re used to.

“She’s in the RV, but I don’t think-” Dani begins, but he’s already beelining for the camper before they can finish. He can hear his heartbeat pulsing in his ears as he nearly bursts through the door, finding her sitting at the small table in the back with her head in her hands.

Her gaze snaps up at the sound of his entrance into the RV, and her face immediately drops when she sees him practically fuming. “Tyler-” she says urgently, instantly on her feet as he approaches as if she’s about to defend herself. But he isn’t having any of it.

“You wanna tell me what the hell you were thinking out there?” He seethes, suddenly towering over her with his jaw clenched and hands on his hips. She swallows thickly, nervous around this version of him. Terrified to have upset him, disappointed him.

“Tyler, I promise, I was just trying to do the right thing-” she starts again, her tone practically pleading, but he just scoffs. 

“The right thing?” He questions in disbelief, cutting her off with a shake of his head. “You call nearly getting yourself killed in the field ‘doing the right thing’?”

She squeezes her eyes shut at the reminder of what she’d done, at the venom in his voice that’s ordinarily so gentle when directed at her. Memories of what had transpired nearly 20 minutes ago flood her mind and she feels a lump forming in her throat.

“I couldn’t let our data get lost,” she whispers weakly, her gaze glued to the floor in shame. “Bullshit,” he mutters, jaw clenched as his breath picks up. His eyes search her face, grasping to understand why the hell she had risked her life the way she had.

“You don’t run into the path of an incoming EF3 to recover some stupid equipment for our disruption research,” he practically spits, his voice growing louder, more emotional.

“That equipment is completely replaceable. You sure as hell aren’t. So I want to know why on god’s green earth you thought it was a good idea to run headfirst into danger like that.”

Her breath hitches, her eyes welling up with unshed tears at the reminder of her brashness. She feels ashamed and almost embarrassed as Tyler practically berates her.

They were best friends, a pair that the rest of the team liked to call the “dynamic duo.” With a shared passion for tornadoes and a taste for danger, they had instantly clicked from the moment they met during a chase a few years ago, becoming inseparable. Which is why Tyler’s harsh reminder of her stupidity stung so painfully.

She wasn’t used to hearing him so upset, so emotional in the worst way. With her, his tone was always soft, teasing, sometimes so overtly flirty that it would leave her heart pounding and her cheeks flushed.

But this was different. Now his gaze was harsh, curses unnaturally tumbling from his lips as she struggled to explain herself. And she hated every moment of his scrutinizing stare.

“You’ve worked so hard on putting together the equipment for the disruption research. I didn’t want you to have to start from scratch…not after all the effort you went through,” she explains pathetically, her voice cracking slightly as her emotions begin to shine through.

Tyler shakes his head, stepping even closer into her space. “And you thought it was worth risking your life for?” He grits out, his furrowed brow and downturned lips looking so unnatural on his normally smiling face.

Another shuddering breath escapes her as she catches herself from revealing the true reason she’d been so careless, from baring her soul and telling him that she’d run into the path of an incoming tornado because she loved him more than anything. That the thought of his disappointed face, his devastation over months of work lost to an unpredictably large tornado, hurt her so much that she would have done anything to save that equipment.

Anything to make him happy, to be the hero that he was to her.

“I- I didn’t get hurt, I knew I had time to get at least some of it-” she stammers, but she can’t get the words out.

“You didn’t have time!” He practically yells, gripping her shoulders and giving her a gentle shake. His eyes are wide, his gaze burning as he stares down at her.

“If Boone hadn’t been close by with his truck, you could’ve easily not made it. You could’ve died,” he chokes out, his grip on her tightening. His eyes are watering now, his anger fizzling out into something more desperate, more panicked.

Tyler still remembers the pure, unadulterated fear he’d felt as she slipped out of the safety of his truck before he could stop her, sprinting out into the open field where the winds and torrential rain were getting worse by the second.

He remembers the devastated scream of her name that had ripped itself from his chest, lost to the howling winds.

He sure as hell can’t forget the feeling of overwhelming fear and helplessness that overtook him when the rain became so intense that he could not longer see her, no longer assure himself that she hadn’t been sucked up into the raging funnel or hurt by the flying debris.

It was only when he got radio confirmation from Boone five minutes later, stating that she was safe in their truck with some of the equipment intact, that he even knew she was alive.

It had been the most hopeless, terrifying five minutes of his life.

“Don’t you understand what you mean to everyone? What you mean to me?” He rasps, his voice quieter now, more broken. “Some stupid equipment for an experiment isn’t worth your life, Y/N. Not in the least.”

His eyes are tender now as they rake over her face, scanning the scrapes and cuts littering her cheeks, the patch of dried blood clinging to her temple. His heart aches at the thought of her getting hurt, even if the injuries are small.

She notices that nearly all of his anger has left his body, replaced by the emotion that had truly been brewing beneath the surface: crippling fear at the possibility of losing her.

A silent tear runs down her face at his softer, more vulnerable words, her heart breaking as she realizes the effect her thoughtless actions have had on the man she loves. He’s quick to gently wipe it away with the pad of his thumb, his touch lingering on her cheek as he gazes at her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice breaking as she chokes back a sob. In an instant, he’s enveloping her in his tight, comforting hold, cradling her head to his chest and pulling her so close to him that their bodies are practically molded together.

“Shhh…it’s alright, sweetheart,” he gently hushes, his hand stroking through her hair as she cries softly against him. He’s back to himself now, all anger and frustration long abandoned in favor of his naturally calm, caring demeanor. Through her tears, she feels herself flushing slightly at his term of endearment.

“I’m the sorry one. I shouldn’t have yelled at ya, you didn’t deserve it,” he murmurs into her ear, his arms tightening around her.

He internally berates himself for defaulting to anger when she had also probably been scared and upset. But thinking she had died in that tornado just for attempting to recover his equipment had struck something so deep within him that his brain had reacted irrationally.

He stews in his remorse for a moment longer before admitting a truth that might be a little too vulnerable, a little too revealing of his deep and unwavering love for her, but he has to get it off his chest.

“…You just scared me half to death, darlin’. I can’t lose you...I can’t. It would tear me apart worse than a damn tornado ever could.” His whispered words are so raw and tinged with devastation that her breath hitches against his chest.

Slowly, she peels herself away from his comforting embrace to get a good look at him, and what she finds makes her heart clench in her chest. 

His eyes are red and glassy, obvious signs that he’d been crying. His muscles are taught with anxiety, like every fiber in his body had been tense ever since she fled his truck. His hair is slightly tousled and she instantly knows he’d been running his hand through it the way he does when he’s stressed.

The thought that she could cause him this much worry, this much pain, sucks the breath from her lungs and makes her feel dizzy.

“I only tried to save the equipment because I knew how important the research was to you,” she whispers, her voice still shaky but full of sincerity.

“I know how much it means to you, finding a way to keep these tornadoes from causing so much damage to innocent lives. I just- I wanted to do something brave and selfless for you, the way you always have for me,” she admits softly, swallowing as she meets his gaze.

His lips part slightly at her admission, the reverence in her words staggering. Hearing that she cares for him, finds him brave and selfless, wants to return the way he makes her feel, fills his heart with a love so deep he feels like he’s drowning in it.

“Y/N, you’re-” he rasps, pausing to clear his throat when he hears how raw and weak his voice sounds.

“You’re so damn sweet. Your heart is so big. That’s what I love about you. But please, don’t be as stupid as me. I throw myself headfirst into danger so much because I don’t think first…my judgement gets clouded by the thought of helping someone and I get tunnel vision. Which has put me in one too many potentially life-ending scenarios,” he murmurs, his hands squeezing her slightly as they rest on her shoulders.

“I can’t- I won’t let you be that careless. You mean too much to me.”

Her eyes widen at the tenderness in his voice, the affection and worry dripping from every word. It feels like their conversation is breaching on something deeper, something much more vulnerable and terrifying.

Her mind is hung up on his soft that’s what I love about you. Even hearing the word love directed at her from the mouth of Tyler Owens makes her head spin and her face heat up, and she’s unsure if she’s even breathing anymore.

“Tyler…” she manages, her voice threatening to break with the overwhelming swirl of emotions running through her. She can’t help herself, knows that she’s finally going to put it out there, tell him how she feels no matter how scary it might be.

“I love-” his lips are on hers before she can even finish. The sensation of Tyler kissing her is unlike anything she’s ever felt, and she’s damn sure she never wants him to stop.

His large hand tenderly cups her cheek while the other snakes into her hair, tangling his fingers through the strands as he pulls her even closer. She gasps softly as his grip tightens, his lips moving against her own with an almost feral desperation.

The salt from her tears mixes with his sweet taste – something like honey and peppermint – and she melts further into him and his warmth. She can feel him pour every ounce of his turbulent, pent-up emotions into the kiss, and it leaves her completely breathless.

He’s waited for this moment for so long, and after thinking he’d lost her today, he’d be content to just kiss her like this for the rest of time. Reassuring himself that’s she’s still there, that she’s his. Showing her what she means to him.

Finally getting a grip on his emotions, Tyler pulls away for a moment, wanting to make sure he hasn’t misread the signs, misinterpreted what he’d felt brewing between them for so long.

But a wide, disbelieving grin spreads across her face as she fights to catch her breath, and he suddenly has no doubt that she’s been his all along.

“I’ve been waiting for that for- well, I don’t even know how long,” she laughs breathlessly, slightly woozy from his intoxicating taste.

He huffs a laugh in return, his eyes shining with an overwhelming adoration for the woman before him. “Yeah…I think Boone might owe Dexter and Lily some money,” he jokes softly, his thumb gently brushing her rain-soaked hair away from her face.

His eyes roam over her, taking in every inch of her muddy clothes, her scraped up hands, the shallow cut on her temple. Regret courses through him at the way he’d raised his voice at her, even if it had been out of fear of losing her.

“Are you sure you weren’t hurt?” He murmurs, his voice lower and more serious than before. She gently nods, her hand moving to rest on top of his own as it cups her face.

“I’m ok, promise. It’s just a little scrape from slipping in the mud,” she reassures him, sensing his lingering gaze on her slightly bloodied face. She can practically feel the apprehension in his stare, his constant worry for her well-being so endearing that she just wants to kiss him again and again.

“I promise, Ty. And I swear, I won’t do anything like that again. I just got lost in the moment and didn’t think before acting.” He nods slowly, letting the sincerity in her voice wash over her and comfort his racing mind. 

“You’d better not,” he teases softly, a ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. “If we’re doing this thing, no more running headfirst into tornadoes, you hear? Can’t have my girl acting like an irrational daredevil like me. I’ve been told she’s smarter than that.”

She feels herself blushing as he calls her his girl, the title rolling off his tongue so naturally that it makes her heart skip a beat. Tyler watches as a hearty laugh escapes her and she leans into his touch, his own smile growing wider.

Suddenly nothing else has ever mattered beyond this moment of her in his arms, blushing and laughing like he’s the funniest damn man in the world.

“Ok, alright,” she giggles with feigned exasperation. “No more running into tornado paths, I swear. Wrangler’s honor. But you have to swear it too. You’re an adrenaline junkie and a trouble maker, even more than I am.”

He chuckles at her playful jab, his body feeling lighter than it has all day as he finally lets the tension within him fade. She’s safe, he tells himself over and over. She’s alive, she’s teasing him like she always does, and she’s got him smiling like a damn fool.

“Baby,” he mutters with that teasing glint in his eye, “you need to get my head checked if I ever run away from you and into a tornado. No man in his right mind would leave a gorgeous thing like you for some wind.”

Before she can reply to his ridiculous comment, he captures her lips once more with his own, relishing in the way she smiles against him as he pulls her closer.

This is all Tyler’s ever wanted - all he’s ever needed. Just her, safe and sound, loving him in all his flaws and worry for her.

If her running into that damn field led to this moment, this reality where she’s finally his, then so be it. He’s never been more grateful for a tornado.

[dumbseee]

matchmaker.

in which max is tired of lando being a single mess, so he plays matchmaker.

lando norris x famous!reader.

fc: sabrina carpenter.

_

liked by landonorris, francisca.cgomes, madisonbeer and 1 738 929 others.

y/n: lil photodump 💭

_

madisonbeer: my goddess!! miss you pookie xx

liked by y/n.

user: QUEEN OMGGBSKSKSL

user: she’s addicted to slaying

user: pls come to brazil!!

user: can’t wait to see you in paris!!

user: she’s so pretty wtf

user: Y/N AND MADISON COLLAB WHEN??

user: emails i can’t send is a masterpiece y/n!!

user: JUST ONE CHANGE IM BEGGING AHKSOSLSL

user: the man who’s going to date her is literally the luckiest man on earth

see more.

_

imessages between max and lando.

max:

mate

i have good news

lando:

what?

i’m scared actually

max:

fuck off

it’s for your own sake

lando:

okay NOW i’m terrified

max:

SHUT IT

you’re going on a blind date tonight

lando:

um

no?

max:

wasn’t a question you idiot

be ready at 9

a car will come pick you up

lando:

DHAT

WHAT

MAX ANWSER

WITH WHO???

I REFUSE

_

_

imessages between max and lando.

lando:

max fewtrell.

did you REALLY sent me on a blind date with Y/N FUCKING L/N??

WITHOUT WARNING ME??

i was SO embarrassing

max:

okay for my defense, i didn’t know

i asked kika to find me someone who could match your vibe and apparently it had to be y/n…

BUT apparently it went well so we good

lando:

mate

i fucking spilled my wine on her expensive looking dress

i tripped over my own feet when i got up to pay the bill

i stuttered when she asked for my NAME

i almost slipped when i tried to open the car door for her

i answered « that’s cool » when she told me that the inspiration for her new album was her past and traumatic relationship

max:

holy shit dude

she’s never calling you again that’s for SURE

well at least we tried

lando:

wait till i catch you and kika

i’ll run you over with my car

BOTH OF YOU TRAITORS

max:

i’m innocent

it’s all kika’s fault

_

_

imessages between max, kika and lando.

kika:

YOU COWARD

SHE THINKS YOU DIDN’T LIKE HER

TEXT HER NOW

max:

why are we yelling

kika:

go on twitter and see for yourself

lando:

WHAT DO YOU MEAN I DIDN’T LIKE HER??

she should be the one to dislike me i literally made a fool out of myself BECAUSE I WASN’T PREPARED TO MEET MY CELEBRITY CRUSH???

kika:

you should be always prepared lando norris

lando:

omg give me a break

what should i do?

max:

her fans hate you lmao

text her maybe?

kika:

I HAVE A BETTER IDEA

invite her for the miami gp!

yes i’m a genius

lando:

do you want me to crash on the wall francisca?

i will 100% fumble the race if i know she’s watching

max:

oh my god

why are you such a pussy?

lando:

fuck YOU

this is all your fault

kika:

if you don’t invite her, i WILL

lando:

FINE

but if i die i’ll haunt your ass forever

kika:

who knows maybe you’ll finally win a race ;)

mister lando NOwins

lando:

wow i didn’t know mister pierre gasly was a race winner already

max:

okay enough you two

_

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, francisca.cgomes and 2 628 048 others.

y/n: may not know a lot about formula one, but i know for a fact that you deserved that win. i can’t wait to be with you during your journey, pretty boy <3

_

landonorris: i couldn’t ask for a better partner, pretty girl <3

user: YESSS FINALLY

user: omg they’re together??

user: WTFFFABSKSLMSLS

user: no bc why are they so cute??

user: aww she was so happy for him when he won

user: lmao the cameraman kept zooming in on her when lando won ajsksllz

user: PARENTS

user: CONGRATS LANDO

user: he better treat her right

user: they’re cute ngl

see more.

[cherryc1nnam0n]

You entered the wrong house, pretty boy! | Ghostface!Ethan Landry x FEM!Reader

Based on this poll I did, we have this masterpiece

Summary: Ethan made a big mistake by entering your house, a Ghostface fan

Cw: Dub con, P in V sex, unprotected, creampie, he resists at first but then gives in, virgin!Ethan, Ghostface!Ethan, mask kink, riding, mirror sex, recording while having sex, multiple orgasms, excessive cum, overstimulation, spit, knife mentions, rough sex, hair pulling, oral (male receiving), ball play

It was late at night, almost 1 am and you were still awake, sitting on your bed reading a book, when something coming from your living room startled you

"What the?" You said getting up to go investigate, a sandal on your hand, pure instinct

When you reached the place where the noise had come from you saw nothing, just your cat licking her paw

"Callie, you scared me" you whisper yelled at her and she blinked slowly at you "Awe"

You turned around and where met with a masked figure, he tilted his head and pulled out his knife

"Why you up so late?" He asked in a weird voice

"I-I" he started to walk and corned you against a wall, placing the knife against your throat, which made you moan

"What?" He asked genuinely concerned

"Oh what you thought I would be scared?" You said defiantly and he just stood there "Baby, this is having the reaction you least expect" you said squeezing your thighs

He looked down and breathed heavily, where you aroused by this? Where the hell is he?

"Wait, aren't you Britney?" You shook your head "Oh shit, my bad I-"

"What? You were supposed to be in someone else's house?" He nodded, feeling like an idiot "Awwwe, it's okay baby, I'll take good care of you" you said begining to walk into him

"W-wait, hold on, lemme just-" he tripped against your coffee table falling backwards, he tried crawling to the door but you grabbed his foot and began dragging him to your room "Hold on wait! No!"

"Oh you're not going anywhere baby, you entered the wrong house, pretty boy!"

He screamed while you dragged him away into your room, finally inside you ran to close the door and lock it, he backed away from you and you looked at him with hungry eyes

"This has been my fantasy for so long" you licked your lips, scanning him

He was tall, broad even, but you didn't really care about who he was, you just wanted him to fuck you, or you to fuck him

"What is wrong with you?" He asked concerned

"Many things" you said taking your shirt off, boobs falling off freely "Now give me your cock"

He screamed again and you tackled him into the bed, hurrying to lift off his robe so you could free his cock, under it there were pajama pants, so cute, you easily found his mid hard cock, maybe from when he saw your tits

"It's big, I'm gonna have fun with it" you said smacking his dick against your face, he breathed heavily as he saw you play with his cock

You started to suck his dick, it was uncut so you pulled the skin back to suckled his head, he began to moan and grabbed the sheets, bucking his hips up into your mouth, your other hand freed his balls so you could play with them, his breath hitched and he started whining

"Please, please" he said under the mask, you could hear his breath heavy

Your mouth went down to suck his right ball into your mouth, looking up at him while you did so, his head fell back as he finally came all over himself and your face, he came a lot so you just kept pumping him dry for it

"Fuck, stop stop too much, ahh"

You finally released his cock with a pop, licking your lips clean from his cum

"You taste good baby"

You climbed on top of him, removing your pajama shorts and sitting completely naked on top of him, you grinded onto his dick making him whine again, he really liked to do that huh?

"You're a whiney man, you really that desperate?" He nodded

"I'm a virgin" he said lowly and you chuckled

"I can tell" you said to his ear

You grabbed his cock and guided it onto your entrance, sinking down making him hiss and whine, cursing under his breath

"Feels good right?"

He nodded desperately, his hands finding your hips, squeezing so hard he would leave marks

You started bouncing on him, his eyes rolling back behind his head, you bit your lip throwing your head back, your hips moving sexily on top of him, his masked figure was turning you on so much but you were curious of who he was, so taking advantage of him being in pure bliss, you lifted his mask until you took it off entirely, revealing none other than your crush Ethan Landry

"Ethan? I knew you were weird but a killer? And Ghostface? Wow"

"Fuck, don't tell anybody"

"Or what? You gonna kill me? Don't think so" you clenched around him purposely "If you don't kill me, you can fuck me whenever you want"

"I-I, fuck, you feel so good" his eyes rolled back

You kept going faster on him until you felt the familiar tingling of an orgasm, his hand was rubbing your clit while you held onto his thighs so you could roll your hips against him, the tatch of hair at his base rubbing against your clit deliciously

"I'm cumming, gonna cum fuck!" You said orgasming on top of him

He held your hips and thrusted up into you, your tits bouncing as he did so, finally releasing inside you with a loud whine

He fell limp on your bed, his breath erratic as he kept jerking from cumming, he took like 2 minutes to finish cumming

"Wow..." Was all you could say after that

His dick fell off your pussy when he grew soft again, his cum flooding out of you, coating his base and his thighs, running down his ass, his breath hitched when he felt that

"What? You done pretty boy? I thought you could take more than that"

He looked at you, then took a deep breath and sat up, kissing you deeply, his tongue shoving into your mouth, his hand held the back of your neck and while his other grabbed your ass cheek

"I have an idea"

Now in front of your mirror you held your phone up while your chest was against your carpet, your ass jiggling with every thrust Ethan gave you, his hands holding onto your hips, you were recording the whole thing from a beautiful angle that showed hos good he was fucking you, his mask was back on his face, he tilted it as he looked into the mirror, enjoying the view

"Fuck, you like that pretty girl? Like being fucked by a murderer?" You moaned at him "Answer me, bitch!" His voice changer was on as he said that

His left hand grabbed your hair and yanked you back, you moaned from it, eyes rolling back

"Yes I fucking love it, don't stop"

"Good girl"

The skin slapping noises were so loud you thought you would wake up your neighbors, but you couldn't care much because of how good Ethan was making you feel

He reached for his mask and pulled it up until only his mouth was visible, spitting a fat glob onto your ass letting it drip to your pussy, adding extra wetness into his fucking

His cock was hitting your g spot on every move, he was big, uncut and fat, just perfect, and he knew how to use it

"Fuck I'm cumming, I'm fucking cumming!" You said drooling at the mouth as your second orgasm barreled in

"Good girl baby, fucking cum all over my cock"

With a few sloppy thrusts he finally came again, coating your insides with his warm cum for a second time that night, he massaged your ass as he kept rutting softly into you to keep cumming

"All nice and stuffed baby, so good" he said smacking your ass

Turns out it wasn't that big of a mistake to break into your house...

[moonlinos]

Don’t let me love you (Siren part II)

♡ Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Camboy!Hyunjin, friends with benefits to lovers

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), sex work, mentions of smoking, drinking, oral sex (female receiving), orgasm delay/denial, sex toys, marking, nipple play, unprotected sex, creampie, choking (only a little tho)

♡ Word count: 15.7k

♡ Synopsis: Hyunjin has been a camboy since he turned eighteen and a host since the age of twenty. His life and line of work had him building up a fortress of walls to keep himself safe, but he’s powerless as he watches you unknowingly break them down. Although he knows you deserve better than him, he battles with a selfish desire that wants nothing more than to allow himself to love you.

♡ A/N: Part two of what was supposed to be a one-shot, but people made my brain think things and I wrote 15.7K WORDS. I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that so many people actually wanted a part two of something I wrote, so I wanna say thank you 🩷

← part I

Your situation with Hyunjin has been going on for almost eight months now.

Some things have changed; he’s undoubtedly more clingy with you, and you started hanging out with no intentions of having sex. What remains unchanged, however, is the fact that he’s still the same old egotistical idiot.

The thing is, you somehow grew to like that about him. It’s amusing to you just how much he loves himself, gloating about his conquests at the club or bragging about maintaining his number-one spot on the camming website. Although this only makes you even more certain you would never entertain the idea of being with someone like him, having the man who makes you come so hard also make you laugh just as much is a nice bonus.

Hyunjin began coming over to your apartment around two months ago, gradually wearing down your resistance with a lot of pestering until you finally let him in. Your home was almost sacred to you. Hooking up in his apartment was one thing, doing that in the familiarity of your home made it feel almost too intimate. You’ve fucked on the couch, on the kitchen counter, in the shower, but you never allow him into your bedroom. You’re not entirely sure why, but it would feel as if you were tainting your favorite place if he were to fuck you in your bed.

You’re getting ready for a date in your bathroom with Hyunjin sitting on the floor behind you, claiming the view of your ass from that angle was optimal. He lets out a loud chuckle as he watches you dab yet another layer of concealer on the hickey he left on your collarbone earlier tonight.

“Fuck off,” you snap at him. “You think this is funny?”

“Well, yeah, ‘cause it is,” he simply says, and you see him shrugging in the mirror, a grin tugging at one corner of his lip.

Hyunjin has the maddening habit of marking you. Although you told him numerous times how much you hate it, he conveniently ignores that when you have sex, and you’re always too clouded by lust to say anything about it.

“What are you doing on your livestream tonight?” You ask after finally making the small, red blotch on your skin imperceptible.

Watching Hyunjin cam has become your go-to de-stressing method after work. Sitting in a corner far away from the camera, you watch him do his job with ease, like it’s second nature to him. It’s almost intoxicating how he seems to always know what to say to get his viewers going, knowing exactly when to be mean and when to play the role of a caring boyfriend. It makes you clench around nothing, hungrily watching as he makes himself come all over his stomach so deliciously it has you eager to be fucked as soon as he’s done.

He hums. “Well, they really seemed to like the toys I tried last weekend, so I guess that’s what I’m doing for the next few weeks.”

“Ooh, so you’re sticking to the toys now,” you tease him with a grin.

Last Saturday, you watched as Hyunjin opened fan gifts he had received in his PO box during his livestream. Some were extremely questionable (if you had a nickel for every time he pulled out used panties from a box, you’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice), while some were exactly what you would expect to be sent to a camboy. A variety of BDSM gear, kinky costumes fans wanted him to wear, and of course, a lot of sex toys.

Hyunjin shrugs again, leaning on his left hand and staring up at you through the mirror. “I kinda have to do whatever my viewers want to keep my number one ranking.”

“And are you going to the club tonight?”

“Nah,” he yawns and rests his head against the wall. “Took the day off. My spot there is secured,” his lips upturn into a grin. “No other guy at that club can compete with me.”

That’s another thing you learned about Hyunjin these past months; his club and website rankings are extremely important to him. You also learned he has an Only Fans account on the side where he shares videos and pictures of himself, and he pesters you about making any type of content with him every couple of weeks. You were tempted after seeing the enticing amount of money that was in it for you, but your decision was unswayed.

Your confidence wasn’t like his. You’re sure having your performance and appearance scrutinized by strangers would make you go insane.

Nonetheless, you struggle to conceal your jealousy toward Hyunjin’s jobs, as they seem so damn perfect in your eyes. How great would it be if you could essentially work only when you felt like it? Not to mention the fact that both his jobs are basically having orgasms and looking pretty, which certainly seems heavenly when compared to your headache-inducing corporate job.

He even delayed the starting time of his livestream tonight for the sole purpose of tormenting you while you get ready.

Jihoon is your first proper date in almost a year, as you only allowed yourself the luxury of dating after getting the promotion you were working for. He’s in your company’s finance department, and you two have been casually flirting for three months. You tried your best to ignore him for a couple of weeks, but not only was he ridiculously good-looking, he was also the breathing definition of boyfriend material. He was kind, holding doors open and helping other workers carry heavy boxes with a smile on his face. He was caring, always arriving at the office with coffee for his coworkers, having memorized everyone’s order.

Not to mention the whispered rumors that echoed through the hallways of the ninth floor. Your friend, who had recently moved into the finance department, shared them with you after a drunken night out. Jihoon was apparently amazing in bed, all while being a perfect gentleman. The perfect blend of rough and sweet, and never one to kiss and tell — all these rumors apparently coming from women in his department who had dated him and couldn’t keep themselves from gushing about their unforgettable experience with him.

But it would be a lie to say you were excited about this date because of him.

It was the prospect of how much this could vex Hyunjin that really got you eager.

A couple of nights ago, you joked with Hyunjin about how Jihoon was the complete antithesis of him, hence why he was the ideal candidate for a boyfriend. Hyunjin’s reaction was exactly what you anticipated, with him becoming visibly annoyed and grumbling about how Jihoon probably talks a big game but does the bare minimum in bed.

You simply laughed because the mere thought that another man could be just as good, if not better, than him in bed was what ticked Hyunjin off. Never mind that you said Jihoon was perfect because he was everything he was not.

“You know,” Hyunjin suddenly says, “We should make a bet.”

And you hesitate for a beat and a half because you know Hyunjin.

Still, you sigh and answer, “Sure. What kind of bet?”

“If this guy is really that good in bed, then I’ll pay for your next date myself,” he vows, his smirk only growing as you turn to look at him through the mirror. “If he’s average, you go on a date with me.”

You silently look at him for a few seconds before laughter bursts out of you.

“Hyunjin, do you fucking hate me?” You ask, turning your body toward him. “I get shitty sex then have to endure a date with you?”

He shrugs, rising to stand in front of you. “This just proved to me how much faith you have in your date,” he calmly says. He then leans into you, caging you against the countertop, hands beside your body. Hyunjin bends his face to yours, his breath tickling your skin as he speaks, “Just admit you know no guy will ever be a better fuck than me.”

You scoff at his arrogance, pushing him until his back hits the wall.

“Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Hyunjin follows you when you leave the bathroom to grab your purse in the living room, loudly clicking his tongue behind you.

“Why’d you dress up for him?” He huffs, and you turn to look at him with a raised brow. “This fucking short dress and shit.” He rakes his eyes over your body from head to toe, tugging at his bottom lip. “I should make you dress up for me, too. You look hot.”

By now, you’ve learned that the best course of action to follow when dealing with Hyunjin’s monumental ego is to ignore it altogether. It’s also quite entertaining to purposefully give him answers you know will vex him, so you sweetly smile at him.

“Thank you,” you beam, your fingers toying with the hem of your short dress, pulling up the fabric. “Hopefully Jihoon thinks the same.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, curling an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against his body. He harshly presses his lips to yours, undoubtedly smudging your lipstick. His tongue pushes past your lips, brushing against your own. It’s almost like an act of possessiveness — leaving his taste on your tongue before you go off to your date with another man.

He tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you even closer. But just as you’re getting lost in the feeling of his lips against yours, the sound of your doorbell echoes through the room, and your eyes widen. Pulling away, you promptly push Hyunjin back and wipe the corners of your mouth. You stifle a chuckle when your eyes land on his face; red lipstick smudged all over his lips.

“Stay in the bathroom until I leave,” you tell him while grabbing your purse from the couch. He rolls his eyes again, this time with a scowl contorting his features.

You smile at Jihoon when you open your door. Barely giving him the chance to say hello, you hurry him toward the elevator, reminding him of your reservation. You know Hyunjin, and you wouldn’t put it past him to show up behind you simply to stir up some drama.

But that’s the thing; you know Hyunjin, yet you still choose to stay in this strange arrangement with him. Because it’s the fact that you know him, for some reason you’re unsure of yourself, that makes you actually like him a little bit.

Hyunjin ends his livestream as usual, saying goodnight with a promise of seeing his viewers again tomorrow night. He never acknowledges tips and addresses no one by their name or username. Some cammers wear masks to conceal their identities — this cavalier persona, uncaring and nonchalant, is Hyunjin’s mask.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he goes on to do the arduous task of cleaning up the fleshlight he used tonight. It was a gift from a viewer, who begged him — with quite a lot of tips — to use it for her. What was initially meant to be a one-time thing has now become his new routine, as his viewers couldn’t get enough of it.

Hyunjin hates this part of his camming job: the incessant need to please the people who watch him, lest they abandon him and move on to a new cammer. He doesn’t mind the sex toys — although cleaning them makes him want to throw his entire collection out the window — but he’s had to do a lot of shit he really didn’t want to, all in the name of maintaining his number one spot.

He was eighteen when he first started. In desperate need of money after moving out of home for college, one of his friends suggested he sell his nudes to people around campus. When Hyunjin scowled and asked why the fuck that was his first and only suggestion, the boy laughed. He remembers his words to this day:

“Hyunjin, you know you don’t really have anything else other than your looks. Your grades are shit, and you’re lazy as fuck. This is pretty much the only way you can ever make money.”

And by that age, that was nothing new to Hyunjin, as he had heard different variations of that same speech his entire life. When he was a child, his parents urged him to become an idol or a model, going so far as to motivate him to ignore his schoolwork to attend auditions (even when he whined about how much he hated them). 

His mother always said his face had the power to make people love him while studying would only lead to success.

“It’s much better to be loved, Hyunjin,” she told him when he was ten. “Anyone can reach success if they try hard enough, but being loved is a privilege only special people can have.”

By his late teens, when his reputation began to precede him after countless hookups during high school, his friends assured him he could make a lot of money off of sex.

Either way, the consensus was always that the only thing Hyunjin had to offer were his looks and body.

At first, he hated it. He wanted nothing more than to be appreciated for anything other than what his face looked like, or how good he was in bed. He got his grades up, excelled in hobbies he actually liked, and even set goals for himself after college. But Hyunjin never heard a word of praise from his parents, and his friends were always more interested in who he was hooking up with than how he got to the top of his class. After a while, he realized he was simply fighting a losing battle.

So he accepted that truth, because it couldn’t hurt him if he were the one to incentivize it.

That was why he decided to follow his friend’s asinine suggestion.

His first endeavor was with simple videos of himself jerking off in front of his mirror, the shitty camera of his phone certainly hindering his attempt at making the whole thing pleasing to the eyes. He would promote them through text messages to acquaintances he’d met at parties at first, later creating a Twitter account dedicated solely to selling these videos. It wasn’t a lot of money, but it was certainly more than his friends made while working monotonous shifts at coffee shops.

Only four months later, he coincidentally entered the world of camming through a girl he had been hooking up with.

They were in her bedroom, just about to have sex, when she giggled against his lips and told him she could make a lot of money if he fucked her during one of her livestreams. He said he could make a lot of money if she let him record them fucking.

They ultimately reached an agreement, and Hyunjin appeared on his first-ever livestream that same night — a mask covering both their faces and the money made split evenly between them.

He recalls how his eyes were glued to her computer screen the entire time. He was used to praises and compliments, but there was something different about having a stranger openly say they’d do anything to be in that girl’s place, that they would pay to have him fuck them, or even something as simple as telling Hyunjin how good he was. It had a rush of euphoria cursing through his veins.

It was as if, for the first time in his life, he had found something he was truly good at, something that he was entirely in control of. He was a natural, and he enjoyed every moment of it, easily slipping into the persona he wears to this day.

He got drunk on that validation and was desperate to have it again.

After that night, he created his own account, with many of his hookup’s viewers following him immediately. He dropped out of college soon after he started, as the money he made from camming along with selling his content on Only Fans already exceeded the estimated salary in his field of study.

Hyunjin was good, and he loved being good. Most importantly, he loved knowing he was good.

That’s why he simply ignores the few times he’s had to do things he wasn’t all that keen on doing. Because at the end of the day, that’s the only thing he’s good at — pleasing people, no matter the cost.

After a long shower, Hyunjin walks back into his room and sinks into his bed. He’s glad he took the day off from his job at the club since a viewer tipped him $300 to edge himself for as long as he could tonight. After an hour of that, the only thing he wants is to curl up in bed and sleep for hours.

He buries himself under his blankets, but just as his eyes flutter closed, the sound of laughter echoes through his room. Your laughter.

He sits up in bed almost immediately, a grin etched onto his lips. He still remembers the day he found out his walls were paper thin; the day you touched yourself while he was streaming. He knew you were so sure you had been quiet — only letting out small whimpers and sighs — but he heard you regardless, and your pretty noises made it even easier for him to come that night. He initially assumed you were simply masturbating, but when you came knocking at his door the very next day to complain about how noisy he was, he knew you were touching yourself to the sound of his voice.

Hyunjin has fucked many women in his life, but for that silly fact alone, none piqued his interest quite like you did.

He rests his back against the headboard, ready to listen to you complain on the phone to some friend, grumbling about how fucking awful your date had been. But a masculine voice suddenly permeates through the wall, filling his room with the sound of your date’s obnoxious laughter.

“I had a really nice time tonight,” he slurs, clearly a bit tipsy.

“Me too,” you giggle, and Hyunjin’s face twists into a scowl. Since when do you giggle like that?

He hastily yanks the covers off his body, rushing to settle into his computer chair in a shameless effort to hear your conversation more clearly.

“Sorry I laughed when you spilled your drink on your dress,” the guy — whose name Hyunjin frankly didn’t care enough to memorize — apologizes before adding, “Do I make you that nervous?”

And it’s like Hyunjin can hear the smirk in the man’s voice. Why the fuck must this annoy him so much? Couldn’t you go back to his place to fuck? Maybe you’re pissed at him over the bet, and this is a desperate attempt to prove you’re right. He scoffs, running a hand through his hair before reclining on the chair.

Just means you’ll be having mediocre sex while he listens.

“Of course I was nervous,” you reply. “Look at you, this shirt’s been driving me crazy since you picked me up.”

The man snickers. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you state matter-of-factly, “Kept looking at your arms the entire night. Couldn’t think straight,” your voice drops to a whisper, and Hyunjin could recognize the alluring lilt that envelops your voice from a mile away.

You use it with him almost every night.

Your date hums. “Oh, you like my arms?”

And Hyunjin can just picture the man flexing his muscles. What a fucking idiot.

His room is filled with the creaking sound of your bed, and he physically cringes. He can’t believe you’re really gonna make him listen to you fuck another guy. He especially can’t believe you so easily let this fucker into your bedroom. Hyunjin has known you for eight months, and you still adamantly insist that your bedroom is off-limits.

Maybe this is his long-overdue punishment for making you lose sleep for a month.

Your room suddenly falls into an odd stillness. All Hyunjin can do is sit in the dark, consumed by the incessant ticking of his clock, unable to tear his gaze away from the wall in front of him. His mind becomes his own worst enemy, flooding his imagination with vivid images of you laid out underneath this man, his arms you seemingly love so much caging you between the mattress and his body while his lips explore every inch of your skin. Or maybe you’re on top, rolling your hips in that slow, tantalizing rhythm that drives Hyunjin mad while looking at him with lust-clouded eyes.

The sound of you softly whimpering shakes him out of his thoughts, and Hyunjin subconsciously clenches his fists. Despite hearing the guy talk to you again, all he makes out is a jumble of garbled, muffled sounds.

He isn’t sure how long he stays there, eyes boring holes into the wall until his vision goes blurry and gnawing on his lips until he tears at the delicate skin. His ears sting with the sound of your bed frame hitting your shared wall, and your sighs and moans he loves so much only seem to mock him.

When the sardonic symphony eventually fades into silence, Hyunjin remains where he is. He feels powerless; he can’t stop how his heart weighs heavy in his chest or do anything but feel the scorching flame of anger searing his veins.

He’s memorized your date’s name by now — Jihoon, as your voice repeatedly called out.

For the first time in so long, Hyunjin was no longer in control.

Hyunjin struggles to conceal his annoyance when you show up at his door the next day as if nothing had happened. The hickey he gave you no longer being concealed by makeup and your ever-present grin only added to his aggravation, as if you were relishing in his agony. He wants nothing more than to fuck that smug grin off your pretty lips, but he can’t bring himself to touch you. Not when his ego is bruised by how easily another man could please you.

After all, that was all Hyunjin had to offer. Why were you even here in the first place? If you had already found someone else to fuck you, he had nothing more to give you.

Sitting on his couch, Hyunjin’s frustration gets the best of him, and he’s the first to break the silence.

“I don’t even gotta ask if you had a good time last night,” he sneers, and you stifle a chuckle, trying but ultimately failing to keep a straight face.

“Yeah, the restaurant was nice.”

Hyunjin can’t contain the scoff that escapes his lips, his mouth curling in disdain. “You know damn well I’m not talking about the restaurant.”

You cock your head to the side, brows knitting together as you put on your best act of naivety.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean?” You ask, voice dripping in sarcasm.

Hyunjin is pushing your body onto the couch before he realizes what he’s doing, the rage he felt last night no longer laying dormant in his bloodstream. He cages you against the cushions, his hands resting beside your body. You instinctively spread your thighs to accommodate him.

“You think you’re so fucking funny, don’t you?” He asks, bending his face to yours. You shrug with a contented sigh, lifting your arms to wrap around his back.

Hyunjin scoffs, and you let out a yelp as he abruptly hoists your legs over his shoulders, fingertips digging into the flesh of your thighs. He leans down to kiss you, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth but pulls away before you can register to kiss him back, leaving you to chase after his touch.

“Is this how he fucked you?” He asks with a hum, his lips hovering mere inches above yours. His hold on your thighs becomes bruisingly tight as he waits for your answer. “Hm? Did he fuck you good?”

“We were both tipsy,” you murmur, breath hitching as he pushes his hardening member against your clothed core. “It was okay.”

A grin tugs at the corner of his lips, and Hyunjin mockingly pouts. “So he wasn’t the sex god you were promised, baby?”

You roll your eyes. “I just said it was okay.”

Hyunjin shakes his head, his gaze transfixed by the way your eyes look up at him while you subtly roll your hips up into him. He’s not stupid, he knows the reason why you have such an infuriating effect on him. He’s never going to be good enough for you outside of being a good fuck, yet he feels a blooming yearning inside of his chest that makes him selfishly want to keep you to himself. Even if he has nothing else to offer you.

So he chooses to swallow his pride, just this once, to prove to you why you should choose to stay and stop searching for pleasure in other men — because Hyunjin knows you will find much more than that in them. Much more than what he has.

“‘Okay’ isn’t what you deserve,” He tuts, his mind slowly fogging over with desire as you roll your hips harder against his length. “Isn’t what you’re used to after all these months, is it? Hm?” He urges, raising a hand to lightly brush against your jaw before gripping it. “Answer me.”

Hyunjin knows you’re struggling not to give in; that’s one of his favorite things about having sex with you. The push and pull, how you try so hard to act tough and unbothered but ultimately melt under his touch every time. Even so, he was only able to truly break you for the first time a couple of months ago. You’re obstinate, he’ll give you that.

You shrug again, and he knows it’s the only answer he’ll get from you for now.

“Are you gonna see him again?” He asks instead.

You let out a quiet sigh as Hyunjin lazily grazes your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.

“Don’t think so.”

“Yeah?” He asks, arching a brow almost knowingly. “I can’t help but think you only brought him home to make me listen to you.”

And you giggle at that. The same overly sweet, coy giggle Hyunjin heard through his wall last night.

“I guess you’ll never know,” you simply answer, running a hand through his hair and lightly gripping a fistful while your eyes flicker down to his lips.

Hyunjin wastes no more time talking to you — he knows your conversations usually lead nowhere. He crashes his lips into yours, fingers gripping your jaw once more and forcing your lips open, his tongue slipping inside your mouth. You whimper into the kiss, a sound he knows slipped past your lips unwittingly. Your tongue swirls against his, and he savors your taste with a low hum.

You tilt your hips up, chasing after him again and whining when Hyunjin moves out of reach. He smiles.

“You want me to give you what you’re used to?” He asks against your lips, and you’re quick to nod. “So fucking greedy, made me listen to you get fucked last night only to come running back to me.” He slides his hands under your ass and picks you up effortlessly, carrying you toward his bedroom with an exasperated sigh. “Would’ve been easier if you just admitted no guy will ever be as good as me, wouldn’t it?”

“Shut the fuck up,” you snarl, but your words are cut short as Hyunjin throws you onto his bed and promptly walks to his wardrobe. “At least Jihoon got to it quick. I’m not one of your viewers, I don’t care much for your chatter.”

Hyunjin lets out a hearty laugh, retrieving a small blue box from among his clothes and sitting at the edge of the bed. “He got to it quick? Is that your way of telling me your date was a one-minute man?”

You open your mouth as if you’re ready to refute him but ultimately close it and cross your arms over your chest, willing him to do something. Hyunjin stifles another laugh.

“Good thing you have me, then,” He mutters, the goading lilt to his voice impossible to disguise. Placing the box on his nightstand, he hovers over your body once again. “I got all these toys, and we never got around to playing with them together.”

You visibly shudder, nodding slowly as Hyunjin looms over you. He slots your lips together once more, this time much more softly. Your tongue lightly brushes against his bottom lip, licking into his mouth as your thighs wrap around his hips, hooking your ankles behind him and drawing his body flush against yours.

With each languid and deliberate stroke of his tongue, Hyunjin revels in the way he can feel you grow more impatient, tugging at the fabric of his shirt and rutting your hips against his. His hands slip under the hem of your shirt to grip your waist, easing your movements. The way his cock strains against his sweatpants becomes impossible to ignore as his hard length presses against your warm core harder and harder with each roll of your hips. 

Hyunjin’s hand glides from your waist to your stomach, caressing your skin before finding its way to your cunt, fingers harshly pressing against your clothed wetness. You whimper into the kiss as he lazily circles your clit over the fabric of your shorts.

“Let’s make a deal,” Hyunjin whispers as he pulls away. “You admit I’m the best fuck you’re ever gonna have, and I might let you come.”

He punctuates his words with a firm press of his fingers to your clit, and he can visibly see your resolve crumbling before him, but you still force out an indignant huff.

“In your dreams,” you shakily breathe out.

Hyunjin shrugs, his fingers leaving your core and traveling over the expanse of your stomach. He promptly rids you of your shirt, and you hiss as his hands brush against your sensitive nipples, Hyunjin watching as they immediately stiffen in response.

Your habit of not wearing a bra nearly drives Hyunjin insane — even on the first day you came knocking at his door, he remembers having to fight the urge to glance down at the way your nipples peaked beneath the fabric of your white shirt.

You’ve been driving him crazy since you walked into his line of sight.

Hyunjin lightly massages your breasts before grazing your hardened nipples with his thumbs, swiftly sucking one into his mouth, causing sighs to spill from your lips as your hand tangled in his hair. He flicks the stiff bud with his tongue before grazing his teeth over it, and you roughly tug at his roots. He smiles against your skin, nudging the peak of your nipples with his lips and sighing.

“Say it,” he calmly tells you, but your only response is tugging harder at his hair. “You’re so stubborn,” He chides, tugging his shirt over his head. “I told you, you’re only coming if you fucking admit it.”

He slowly moves onto the foot of the bed, his hands roaming along your legs with featherlight touches. He places wet kisses from your stomach to your inner thighs, sucking lightly at the skin until his lips hovered tantalizingly close to your still-clothed, aching cunt. And then he stops, instead pressing a kiss to your hips.

“Hyunjin,” his name falls from your lips as a breathy whine. He looks up to find your gaze already on him, eyes silently pleading. He grins, thumbs drawing circles on your inner thighs as you push your hips into his face, but he promptly pulls away. “Please,” you finally whisper, although barely audibly. 

Hyunjin hums, satisfied, pressing a wet kiss to your core through the fabric of your shorts before sliding them down your legs along with your panties. He hisses through his teeth at the sight of your wetness, thumbs gliding up and down your folds before spreading you before him. His tongue immediately pokes out to travel up your slit before wrapping his lips around your swollen clit, sucking harshly, and your hand soon flies to rest on his head.

He lifts his eyes once more, humming against your folds as he finds your head rolled back onto his pillows, lips falling open as you softly mewl. He could listen to your sweet sounds all night, reveling in the way every flick of his tongue made you become louder and louder until you were all but screaming his name.

But he has to teach you a lesson tonight.

His tongue delves deep into you, gliding against your slick inner walls, causing even more arousal to flood his lips. His eyes flutter closed with a pleased hum, lapping up every drop of your wetness.

“Fuck,” you rasp, and Hyunjin knows you’re close.

With a wicked grin, he slips two fingers into your warm cunt, curling them just the way you love while his tongue expertly circles your clit. When you roll your hips against his lips, yanking his head toward your body, Hyunjin pulls away.

He watches as your eyes shoot open and you frown at him, but he simply grins, thumb wiping at his glistening mouth before slipping the digit into your agape lips.

“Say it,” he repeats, unrelenting, and stifles a laugh when you groan loudly.

You hook a leg around his waist, bringing his body close to yours again, the heat of his thick cock pressing against your soaked cunt. Hyunjin sucks in a breath, focusing on reining in his emotions, determined not to let you win. His mind is already completely clouded with lust, desperate to fuck you into the mattress, but he refuses to give you the satisfaction of watching him give in to you.

He bends his face to yours, gasping out a curse as he watches the way you swirl your tongue around his finger with a hum, lazily sucking it while maintaining your eyes locked onto his. He presses the pad of his thumb down onto your tongue, and your lips obediently fall open before upturning into a taunting smile.

You still think you’re in control.

Hyunjin shakes his head, his resolve coming back to him.

His fingers fall from your tongue, and he presses his lips against yours. You melt into the kiss, hands traveling down the expanse of Hyunjin’s abdomen, then back up to wrap around his broad shoulders. He lets you do as you please, rummaging through his box until his fingers brush against what he’s looking for. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, ultimately distracting you, and you let out a small whimper, which grows into a loud groan as he presses the blunt tip of the massaging wand to your clit and switches it to the medium setting.

“What the fuck,” You all but growl into his lips, and Hyunjin hums.

“Does it feel good, baby?”

You let out a shuddering sigh. “T-Too much,” you whimper, hands scrambling for Hyunjin’s arms in an attempt to ground yourself, but ultimately clawing at his bedsheets.

He glides the wand along your drenched folds, moving up and down, eyes transfixed on the way your arousal drips out of you and coats the toy. Your entire body jolts when he harshly presses the vibrating tip directly onto your clit. He could come just by watching you squirm underneath him, loud groans falling from your lips. How he wished Jihoon could be in your room, listening to how beautiful you sound when you’re actually being taken care of properly.

Hyunjin feels his cock twitch every time your body shudders, trying to escape the relentless vibrations, sticky precum gathering in his sweatpants and increasing his discomfort. He desperately wants to fuck you.

With a low grunt, he leans in closer to you, pinning your arm to your side and flicking his wrist as he presses down harder on your swollen clit.

“Got no idea how pretty you sound, do you?” He hisses, “If only you weren’t such a fucking brat and just — fuck.”

His words dissipate when your free hand wiggles between your bodies and pulls down his sweatpants, freeing his cock. Your fingers immediately wrap around his length, squeezing him tightly before frantically stroking him. The sounds that echoed through the room were lewd, unmistakable evidences of both your arousals.

Hyunjin pulls the wand from your clit, turning down the vibrations and letting it rest against one of your peaked nipples while he grips his cock in his fist, the swollen tip prodding at your entrance, just barely pushing in. You whimper loudly, clutching his arm, fingernails digging crescent moons into his pale skin.

“Come on,” he growls, cock now gliding up and down your slit. “I know you wanna come, just fucking say it.”

But you’re unrelenting, staring into his eyes and weakly shaking your head.

Hyunjin stops his movements altogether, his shaft nestled against your soaking cunt, the head of his cock resting heavily on your clit. He presses the wand down onto his length, increasing the intensity to the highest setting. A loud, broken moan falls from your throat as your shaky hands grip his wrist, your back arching off the bed. You try to push the toy away, but Hyunjin’s free hand wraps around your neck, effortlessly pinning your pliant body down onto the mattress.

He presses his forehead to yours, his sweat dripping down onto your breasts as he fights off his orgasm.

“Fucking say it,” he hisses, tears gathering in your lashes. The unyielding vibrations from the wand traveling through his cock and going straight onto your clit, coupled with the way his hand tightens around your throat, finally have every bit of your resolve crumbling.

“You,” you choke out, “Best fuck I’ll ever fucking have, Hyunjin, god — I wanna come, please.”

Hyunjin feels satisfaction enveloping his entire being, and the pleasure intensifies tenfold, his cock twitching and a low groan reverberating from the depths of his chest.

“Come for me, baby,” he breathes out, giving your neck one last squeeze, and your climax erupts from you with a loud cry. As your entire body convulses and your head tilts back, Hyunjin can feel your release coating his cock before dripping onto the sheets below.

As you struggle to catch your breath, your grip on his wrist tightens and your body squirms away from the vibrations, but Hyunjin only presses down harder, seeking his own release. He soon comes with a sigh, eyebrows scrunching together, his cum landing all over your cunt.

He turns off the vibrator, labored breaths mixing with yours as you two come down from your highs.

“You’re fucking insane,” you chuckle after a beat.

And Hyunjin’s lips stretch into a lazy smile. “And you owe me a date.”

You were reluctant at first, having assumed it was simply Hyunjin’s ego talking that night, only teasing you because you were going on a date with someone else when he proposed that odd bet. However, you eventually found out he wasn’t at all joking and actually wanted his ‘prize’ — as he called it — for winning the bet.

Figuring out a date was an aggravating task, given that Hyunjin worked on weekends and you worked on weekdays. You told him numerous times to just let it go; you could simply hang out in his apartment like you usually did and call it a date. It wasn’t anything serious, just another one of his whims.

But Hyunjin’s persistence was unwavering, and he settled for taking yet another day off and canceling his livestream altogether so he could take you out on a Saturday.

Although you weren’t looking forward to it at first, you unknowingly smiled whenever you saw the day marked on your calendar alongside your endless work assignments. It was ridiculous, and you wouldn’t admit it to him, but deep down, you were actually excited about this date. You wanted to know what it’s like to have a conversation that doesn’t end in you two bickering, wanted to know what it feels like to hang out with him without the thought of fucking looming over your heads.

You were strangely excited to get to know Hyunjin outside the four walls of your apartments.

But the Sunday before your date, disappointment washed over you like a cold bucket of water when Hyunjin told you he had to cancel.

What did you expect? You knew Hyunjin. This should’ve been the obvious outcome from the start, but you were stupid and allowed yourself to be swept away by a hope that proved too good to be true.

He waited until he finished his livestream to tell you — as if canceling less than a week before wasn’t already bad enough. Your irritation reached its peak as you sat in his bed and listened to him insist it wasn’t his fault.

“One of the other hosts had a family emergency so he’ll be gone for two weekends,” he explained, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his words. Family emergency. Of course.

“Hyunjin, you say that like you don’t take countless days off with no issues,” you refuted, and his frown deepened while he shook his head.

Just say you don’t wanna go on this stupid date.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “It’s not like that. We have rules to follow,” he insisted. “Only one host can be absent at a time. I don’t have a valid reason for bailing on Saturday, so I’m forced to go.”

“Or you’ll lose your precious number one spot?”

“Or I’ll lose my fucking job.”

And you simply shrugged as you ultimately realized that was yet another pointless conversation between you. You then went on to have sex, as you always did when confronted with the threat of a serious conversation, and the topic was forgotten.

At least by Hyunjin.

You spend the next days avoiding him to the best of your abilities. Deep down, you know you’re behaving like a child, but the way you allowed yourself to get excited over something as stupid as a date with him still makes you feel pathetic. It’s impossible not to feel like he raised your hopes only for the pleasure of shutting you down. All because you went out with someone else, and you know that was a blow to his ego.

You two have never been anything more than friends who hook up — and even using that term feels almost comical, seeing as you two can’t have a conversation without it turning into a petty argument or an ego battle — but his insistence on this date, and your own eagerness seemed to hint at something more.

Clearly, you were mistaken.

You brought Jihoon back to your apartment hoping to have mind-blowing sex after a nice date. Plus, you knew Hyunjin would hear you, and you terribly wanted to deflate his ego. A win-win situation in your book. Instead, you had mediocre sex at best. Jihoon skipped foreplay entirely, simply pounded into you, and finished far too quickly while leaving you hanging.

Maybe he was too tipsy to perform well, or maybe the women in your office are living in a depressing reality where a guy’s ability to find the clitoris means he’s a god among men. Either way, even after putting on your best performance, Hyunjin still saw right through you.

And the worst part is, even you can’t explain why you did that. Your mind argues it was all for the pleasure of vexing him; he’s been annoying you since he first moved in next door, after all. But your heart is quick to jump in with a list of facts and reasons why that can’t be the case — all while presenting some valid arguments that lead you to believe you might like Hyunjin more than originally planned.

But he was still Hyunjin at the end of the day. Your egotistical idiot neighbor whose fragile ego you hurt, so he’s retaliating.

After three days of successfully ignoring Hyunjin, one of your friends at work makes all your work crumble with a single phrase.

“I can’t believe we still haven’t gone back to The Siren,” she grumbled during lunch, and you stabbed an innocent piece of broccoli with your fork.

That was all it took to ignite your curiosity.

You sit at your desk later in the day and look up that damn club, telling yourself you simply want to find out why your friends are so desperate to go there. This has nothing to do with Hyunjin.

Upon entering their website, you realize The Siren wasn’t a nightclub as you had imagined; it’s an elegant lounge with a lavish-looking bar you’re sure charged $5 for a bottle of water. As you read the club’s About Us page, the entrance fee almost has you choking on your coffee, despite it being expected for such a place. Among several rules, one catches your eye:

The club allows a maximum of twenty attendees per night, offering a choice of twenty-five hosts.

You gnaw on your bottom lip at the realization that perhaps Hyunjin wasn’t lying, and that was the reason only one host could be absent at a time.

Eventually, you find your way to the Hosts section of the website. You’re a bit taken aback by how these men are presented as amenities, like products displayed at an online shop, with nothing but their names and a picture along with their price.

They’re divided into tiers: gold, emerald, and platinum. Hosts in the gold tier are younger, most likely having just started on the job, and their prices are the most affordable. The emerald tier is more expensive, with some hosts who look old enough to be your father. The disturbing realization dawns on you that these men’s values diminish as they age.

On the platinum tier, only five hosts are displayed, and you blanch at each of their unique prices. Hyunjin is the most expensive, at $500, excluding extra fees. You click on his black and white picture, and a myriad of photos of Hyunjin flood your screen. You’re struck by how different he looks in these shots; his styled hair and impeccably tailored suits look nothing like the man you see at your apartments every day, lounging around in sweatpants and loose t-shirts.

A description sits at the top of the page, short but still enough to make you grimace. 

Hyunjin has held our club’s esteemed number-one position for two consecutive years now, and rightfully so. Complementing his striking good looks is an alluring personality that will make you feel cherished throughout the evening. His undivided attention will undoubtedly meet your satisfaction, and his additional services will leave you breathless.

You aren’t sure what you were expecting — you were already aware of the nature of Hyunjin’s job as a host — but the club’s portrayal of these people as mere products leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

Your curiosity has morphed into frustration as you return to the homepage, but a message catches your eye just as you’re about to exit the website. Three spots are now available for Saturday night due to the absence of one of their hosts. And before you can even process your actions, you’ve already booked these spots for you and two friends.

Thank you for choosing to unwind at The Siren! We will contact you individually regarding further details, including host orders.

Host orders? That is enough to make you close the website.

You can’t believe you’re going to do this. You know for a fact Hyunjin will be upset, but you can’t bring yourself to care. If he wants to toy with your emotions, you have every right to show up at this club.

You wait for Hyunjin to leave for work to get ready on Saturday. You weren’t able to avoid him this afternoon and spent the day lazying around in your apartment, binge-watching some new reality TV show he’s obsessed with.

You expected Hana and Naeun to eat you alive for buying tickets to this overpriced club without consulting them first, but their excitement overshadowed any anger they had. You also played up your excitement, although, by the time your shift had ended, you mostly felt regret for spending all that money purely out of spite.

The email you received explains The Siren has a strict dress code, not allowing any client in unless they’re dressed to their standards.

The patrons are required to match our club’s overall atmosphere.

You rolled your eyes. At least their arrogance fit their ostentatious price.

As you skim through their several other rules, you find out that booking a host isn’t mandatory, and often, hosts will seek out patrons themselves if they’re free for the night.

Be prepared to be approached by one of our available hosts at any given moment. Should you be fortunate enough to capture their attention, that is.

Among the rules, you’re also explicitly told that tipping the hosts anything beyond their set prices is strictly forbidden. The more you learned about this club, the more you struggled to understand why Hyunjin held it in such high esteem.

You bring out your best dress from the back of your closet, hoping you ‘matched the club’s overall atmosphere.’ You let out a heavy sigh as you make it past the What Not to Wear crew guarding the entrance alongside the bouncer, and you are officially in.

“This is your first time here, right?” Hana asks you, linking your arms together. You nod, and she grins before adding, “You’re in for a treat.”

The Siren is exactly what you saw in the pictures, only the dim glow of purple neon lights illuminating the extravagant chandeliers, corner sofas, and opulent decorations you know cost more than your month’s rent.

The owner herself personally escorts every single patron to their seats — a tradition spanning over a decade since the club was first inaugurated. Briefly introducing herself as Taeyeon, the beautiful woman leads you through a long corridor adorned with the hosts’ pictures on the walls. Finally, you arrive at a sofa, where a champagne bottle nestled in an ice bucket already waits for you. She informs Naeun that the host she ordered for the night will be a bit late due to personal reasons, before bidding you goodbye with a smile.

You awkwardly shift in your seat as Hana leaves to fetch you drinks from the bar, and your eyes scan the lounge as it slowly fills up with people. You notice a few of the men you saw on the website parading around the club, a grin etched onto their lips as they lock eyes with a few of the patrons. Other hosts are already tending to their ‘dates,’ sitting beside them on the sofas and attentively listening with warm smiles.

Hyunjin wasn’t lying when he said his job was making lonely women feel wanted.

The club itself is rather boring without the satisfaction of a host pampering you. The slow jazz music playing softly in the background makes you feel almost drowsy, and the dim lighting does little to help. For an hour, you watch as hosts come and go. Some lead their clients toward the bar area, partaking in drinking games with other clients and hosts. Others guide women up the black, shimmering staircase at the back of the club, leaving you to wonder where they could possibly be off to. Thankfully, you’ll have Hana to keep you company when Naeun undoubtedly disappears off to somewhere with the host she ‘ordered.’

Your gaze falls on the sofa in front of you, where a host’s dimpled smile lights up his face as he playfully strokes a woman’s cheek, eliciting a shy giggle from her lips before she continues her story. His intense gaze remains fixed on her face, his hand soothingly trailing down her back while he nods, seemingly enthralled by their conversation. It would be a lie to say coming here after a tiring week at work wouldn’t seem like stepping into a dream. Even if it’s all a well-constructed lie, having a handsome guy cater to your every need and listen to you complain without uttering a word is almost fucking idyllic.

Your eyes then wander toward the back of the club, where a small group of hosts is huddled around a circular table, quietly laughing among themselves. Sitting at the center, Taeyeon’s intent gaze oversees her club’s activities while engaged in a heated phone conversation, her scowl deepening with each word she mutters.

You assume these hosts weren’t booked for the night or are still waiting for their clients to arrive. Just as you’re about to advert your gaze, Hyunjin emerges from a door on the left. His hair is meticulously styled, slicked back to reveal his gorgeous face, and his tall figure is dressed in a white button-up shirt tucked neatly under an expensive-looking black blazer.

Hyunjin has always been beautiful in your eyes, but seeing him exude so much confidence stirs up something inside of you.

His mere presence captivates you so strongly you find it impossible to look away, even as his gaze meets yours. A look of utter bewilderment washes over his face as he stills his movements, looking almost startled. You two fall into an impromptu staring contest as if you’re attempting to communicate with your eyes alone until Naeun taps your shoulder, snapping you out of your haze.

“He’s so fucking hot, isn’t he?”

Your brows knit together. “What?”

“The host you’re ogling at,” Naeun giggles, “I saw him on their website the first time we came here, but I was too late so I couldn’t get him to myself. I’m so glad you asked us to come tonight ‘cause I got to order him before he was booked,” she explains, and you feel as if all the air has frozen in your lungs. Hyunjin is the host your friend ordered. “I’m fucking broke now, but I know it’ll be worth it.”

You inwardly grimace at how she talks about Hyunjin, almost like he’s only a shiny toy she couldn’t buy in the past. That, coupled with how booking a host is so casually referred to as ordering, makes you feel a bit nauseous.

Hyunjin eventually walks over to your table, as you knew he would. He’s Naeun’s host for the night, after all. As he slowly strides toward your sofa, his focus remains solely on you. For a split second, his eyes flicker with something akin to sadness before he quickly resumes his usual persona.

He immediately takes Naeun’s hand, kissing her knuckles with half-lidded eyes and a sultry grin. The way he looks at her has the knot in your stomach tightening, aching with the realization that it’s the same way he always looks at you. You were never anything special or significant to each other — you’re well aware of that — but the sting you feel is unbearable for some reason.

Hyunjin sits beside Naeun, and his focus shifts entirely to her. His wandering hands leave a trail of goosebumps from her arms to her bare legs, while his whispered words make her cheeks flush a rosy pink. And it feels as if he’s completely ignoring your presence, which is such a foolish thought you almost feel ashamed. This is his job, but reminding yourself of that every couple of minutes somehow only makes you feel worse.

Because this isn’t a one-time thing, this happens every single time he works.

At some point, while you were too busy engrossed in Hyunjin and Naeun, Hana got a host of her own. With his bleached blonde hair, a constellation of freckles on his cheeks, and a deep, gentle voice, it seems he’s done his job at captivating her. Each host seems to embody a specific persona. From his less-touchy demeanor to the softness in his eyes when he looks at Hana, it’s clear that this guy is going for the caring boyfriend type.

As you remember how available hosts sometimes approach clients themselves, you fight back the urge to roll your eyes. If they’re available, no one has booked them for the night, meaning they won’t earn a single dollar. Their focus will undoubtedly be on finding the wealthiest available patron. Hana came from old money, only working at your company after falling out with her family, but her head-to-toe Chanel attire radiates wealth. It’s no wonder this host so graciously chose to sit beside her.

Eventually, Hana is led to the large bar by her host, and the atmosphere in your little space becomes increasingly uncomfortable for you. Your neglected drink is now lukewarm, leaving a damp spot on the hem of your dress as condensation seeps through from where you rested the glass on your thighs.

Hyunjin leaves a few minutes later, taking Naeun by the hand. He briefly turns to look at you, his gaze now nearly unreadable. Only disappointment — or was it hurt? — flashes in his brown eyes before he walks away to lead her up that stairwell.

You sit alone for what feels like an eternity, the once bustling lounge slowly falling into a deafening silence around you. Jealousy and hurt intertwine inside your brain, spinning around in an endless cycle and making your head throb.

You’re only waiting until you’ve finished your way too expensive Cosmopolitan — far too warm to be enjoyable now — when a figure suddenly sits beside you. To your surprise, it’s a host. His styled dark brown hair is messy as if he’s been running his hands through it, and his black button-up shirt has the sleeves rolled up, exposing the veins running along his forearms. He’s hot, there’s no denying, but your sour mood won’t be solved by some eye candy.

“Seems we’re both alone tonight,” he starts, a smile slowly spreading across his lips.

You simply hum, taking a final sip of your drink before placing the glass on the table. You’re not really in the mood to entertain this conversation, so you uncross your legs, ready to leave.

But your movements halt when his hand gently rests on your knee.

“You seem so lonely here all by yourself. Why don’t you come with me?” He offers, and your eyes narrow. He lets out a hearty laugh. “No need to act so suspicious, I’m just making an offer. We’re both alone. What’s the harm?”

To say you were skeptical would be an understatement. You clearly remember his face from the website as he was right beside Hyunjin, at the number two spot of the platinum tier, his price only slightly less offensively expensive.

“I’m Minho,” he offers his hand, which you reluctantly take after telling him your name. After your awkward handshake, you try to pull back, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, he places your clasped hands on your lap, his thumb drawing circular shapes on your skin as he continues, “I waited all night for my client to show up. I could really use a distraction.”

Of course.

You take a deep breath, and your gaze shifts towards his face.

“I don’t have money to order you, sorry.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Minho’s lips, his hand leaving yours and finding the skin of your thighs. “How about I make this my treat, then? My client has this habit of ordering me and then ghosting me,” he sighs, “Isn’t that cruel? Taeyeon said she won’t let it fly anymore and is refusing to give her a refund for tonight.”

As Minho’s soft touch glides along your skin, his fingers inching closer to the hem of your dress, your mind replays the scene of Hyunjin’s hand on Naeun’s legs. The way he touched her mirrored how he had touched you so many times, and it replayed in your mind like a flickering film. It ignites the flame of ugly jealousy inside of you once more.

“Your treat?” You whisper, and Minho’s face inches closer to yours, your noses brushing together.

“I’d hate for a pretty girl like you to go home unsatisfied,” he whispers.

You’re walking up the gleaming steps of that staircase before you can make sense of what you’re doing. Minho’s hand doesn’t leave your skin for a second, fingers now gliding across your arms as he leads you down a wide corridor. You eye the place curiously, taking in the row of closed, dark wooden doors lining both sides of the hallway.

Minho leads you toward the only door that has been left ajar, and it finally dawns on you what happens on the second floor of The Siren.

The room is not large; a round bed occupies most of the space between the small bar and the dark velvet couch. Following your initial conversation with Hyunjin about this job, he consistently evaded any further questions you asked until you eventually gave up. You always assumed he found the subject boring, much like you did when forced to talk about your own job.

You knew his job as a host meant pampering women, making them feel wanted and tending to their every need throughout the night. It seems your brain conveniently failed to remember that it also implied having sex with them.

“I only fuck them if they’re willing to pay, and I’m expensive.”

You feel a shudder run through your body as those words ring inside your mind. That’s what extra fees meant.

Hyunjin led Naeun up those stairs. It doesn’t take much imagination to know what they were doing at that exact moment.

Minho locks the door behind you, and his strong arms circle your waist, drawing you closer to his body. His gaze drops to your lips, and a smile spreads across his face.

“Is this okay?” His voice is gentle, with no pressure lingering in his words. You know you could say no, go back home, and wallow in your self-pity for the rest of the night.

But you don’t want to do that.

Because you know Hyunjin is currently fucking your friend. And, despite the rational side of your brain screaming that this is his job, it does little to extinguish the searing fire of jealousy that burns under your skin.

So, you allow yourself to fall into bed with Minho.

His touches are almost feather-light, his kisses gentle, and his movements deliberate as he fucks into you.

It feels good, but it’s not what you’re used to.

It’s not Hyunjin.

Hyunjin returned home as soon as he possibly could after his shift.

Any anger was dampened by the sadness and shame he felt because you had to see him at the club. It’s his job, but it’s a job he never truly loved. He feels vulnerable and powerless as a host, a stark contrast to what he feels when camming.

Taeyeon personally scouted him from his livestream. He was twenty and already making enough money to provide for himself. He didn’t need a new job, but the allure of the validation he knew it would provide him was enticing. Compliments and adoration fueled Hyunjin throughout his entire life. He knew it was a bit pathetic, but that was how he was taught to be.

During his training period, Taeyeon and the older hosts instructed him. They taught him how to erase his true self to fit into what would most appeal to clients. That was easy for Hyunjin. He’d already been doing that for most of his life.

He wasn’t tricked into anything. He was given a meticulous explanation of every minute detail of the job and was allowed to set hard limits for anything he wasn’t comfortable doing. Taeyeon treated the hosts like her family, like older and younger brothers she cared for. She provided apartments for those who came into the job with nothing, paid off student debts, and was always willing to listen to their problems.

She would be the perfect boss if not for her love of money.

Every host receives only 5% of any money they make for the club. Hyunjin, as the highest-paid host at The Siren, only makes around $100 per weekend — if he’s lucky enough to have clients booking him for extra services every night.

He knows he’s being exploited but can’t bring himself to quit.

When he first discovered the ranking system at the club, he turned to smoking because of pressure. Naturally, he started at the lowest tier but needed to climb as fast as possible. He was determined to do whatever it took to reach that number one spot. He bleached his hair, splashed out on clothes he didn’t like, and even took up groups of clients per night. Hyunjin had always found comfort in sex. He had complete control of the situation and the satisfaction of knowing he was the reason someone felt good was just another form of validation, like he was loved for as long as the sex lasted.

Sex at the club was never like that. It was a chore, something he did because he had to. It wasn’t anything like camming, and it wasn’t like having sex with someone he actually cared about.

It wasn’t anything like having sex with you.

Seeing you that night only made it harder for him to drag himself up those stairs and do what was expected of him.

Hyunjin got home that night and fell asleep on the couch. He couldn’t be bothered to do anything, especially shower, as the thought of facing his reflection in the mirror was unbearable. Different emotions swirled inside him like a tornado until they ultimately consumed him before he finally dozed off.

He thought he could trust you, thought you knew him well enough to understand why he wanted to keep this part of himself hidden from you. The night he first told you about this job, he put on a mask — like he always did — and put on his best act, playing up his arrogance despite how scared he felt. When you told him that same night he wasn’t anything worth falling for, and that you could be together only until you found something better, he felt as if his heart had shattered for the first time in his life.

That was the night he realized a mask couldn’t protect him from everything. Especially his own heart.

It wasn’t intentional — liking you this much hasn’t been exactly enjoyable. It simply happened. Because you were the only one who ever chipped away at his impenetrable wall and saw the closest thing to the real Hyunjin, yet still chose to stay.

You hadn’t stayed because of his looks; you two never cared about impressing each other.

You hadn’t stayed solely for the sex; you two often got together simply to enjoy each other’s company.

Hyunjin couldn’t be blamed for assuming you had stayed because you knew him. Not the mask he wore or the persona he showed to the world — the real him.

But tonight, even among all the designer clothes and expensive drinks, he felt as if you had just witnessed him at his lowest. And he could only hope you still chose to stay after that.

You’ve barely been awake for an hour when a knock echoes through your apartment. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, because there’s only one person who could be at the other side of the door.

After your jealousy-clouded brain made the asinine decision to sleep with Minho, you’ve locked away any and every thought into a pretty little box inside your mind. You didn’t want to think about what you had done because you knew the remorse would slowly erode your mind. You certainly didn’t want to think about Hyunjin, as even the faint memory of his eyes from the previous night would dig at your heart until it shattered.

But there was nowhere you could hide outside of your mind.

Hyunjin is quiet as you open the door, and he remains quiet as you two sit together on your couch. Your tea sits forgotten on your coffee table, and you focus on the swirls of steam rising from your mug as you endure his silence.

You force yourself to speak when your tea finally goes cold.

“I’m sorry,” you simply say.

Hyunjin’s hands tug at the sleeves of his sweater, and he sucks in a shuddering breath. “Why did you come to the club without telling me?”

“I was angry at you,” You bite your lip, knowing your reasoning is ridiculous. “Because of the date…” you trail off, and Hyunjin turns to face you, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since he walked into your apartment.

“So you thought coming to my work would be a good idea?”

You shrug, instinctively looking away as you feel the intensity of his eyes on you. It was just like when you first met him, only it made you ashamed instead of flustered. You missed that initial lightness, but you knew that was long gone now. Sorting out your issues with Hyunjin was necessary if you ever hoped to have a healthy relationship. If every conversation turned into an argument that would only be avoided through sex, there was no point in dragging this on.

“I wasn’t thinking,” is all you can say.

Hyunjin scoffs. “That was kinda obvious.”

The biting tone in his voice makes you rise to your feet, shaking your head. You put as much distance between you and him as possible.

“What? You wanted me to be rational when I thought you were just playing with me?” You throw your hands up as you blurted out, exasperation consuming any remaining trace of pride within you. “When I thought you were having fun acting jealous and proposing dates only to come up with shitty excuses to shut it all down?”

“Playing with you?” Hyunjin mirrors your words, eyes narrowing as he closes the distance you had created. “I thought you knew me enough to know I mean it when I say something. I wanted to go on that date with you, and I was fucking jealous. That night you forced me to listen to you fuck another guy made me wanna punch my fucking wall.”

You open your lips, but no words come out.

You’re embarrassed. Going to The Siren wasn’t the first childish thing you had done out of spite because of Hyunjin. But your anger was never directed at him. It was always you; for allowing yourself to become so attached to him and like him so much that it drove you mad.

Going on that date simply to rile Hyunjin up, showing up at his job because you felt entitled to when your mind insisted you had been wronged — that was all you and your stupid mind being incapable of accepting the fact that you have fallen for the guy you swore would never be of any significance to you.

The guy you so proudly declared unworthy of falling for.

“Are you really not gonna say anything?” Hyunjin lets out a weak laugh, and when your eyes meet again, his expression leaves no room for doubt this time. Sadness swims freely in his eyes while they well up with tears that he vigorously fights to hold back. “I thought you knew me,” he reiterates. “Thought you stayed because you knew…” He trails off, shaking his head.

As he turns to leave, you instinctively reach out for him. After nine months of knowing each other, you hold his hand for the first time.

“I do know you, Hyunjin,” you blurt out, squeezing his hand when he refuses to look at you. “I stayed because I know you. Beyond your rankings, beyond that club, beyond this damn wall you built around yourself. At least a little bit, I know you.”

He takes a deep breath before his eyes lock on yours again. “I feel like you’ve been tearing down brick by brick of my wall.” He’s the one to squeeze your hand this time. “I kinda fucking hate that.”

You attempt to stifle a chuckle, but it escapes your lips nonetheless. Hyunjin smiles.

“I’d love to know you even more, beyond this mask you wear all the time,” you confess. And you’re tired of hiding behind your own mask, so you tell him, “It’s tiring feeling like I only know half of who you truly are when I already like you so fucking much as it is.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen, surprise eclipsing any trace of his initial sadness.

“What? You like me?” He sputters, and you bite your lips as a smile spreads on your lips.

You cannot believe this is the same Hyunjin whose ego made you want to punch his face.

“Well, no shit,” you chuckle. “Why do you think I put up with you for so long? Don’t you think if I was looking for something better, I would’ve found it already?”

Hyunjin’s lips crash into yours before you can say anything else, his fingertips barely brushing against your skin as he cupped your face.

Your lips part for him, and a low hum resonates from his chest. You wrap your free arm around his shoulder, your hands still tightly intertwined, and pull him closer to you. It’s an awkward position, but neither of you is willing to unclasp your hands.

Hyunjin’s tongue glides languidly into your open lips, making you clutch at his arm as your mind goes dizzy. You had never kissed like this — always too impatient and lust-drunk to savor the feeling of each other’s lips properly.

It sends your entire body ablaze.

He’s pulling away far too soon, tugging at your bottom lip with a small smile.

“I’m not something better, but I’m gonna be,” he mutters against your lips. “For you.”

But you shake your head. “Just let me in. You’re already more than enough.”

In order for your efforts to work, you and Hyunjin established three crucial rules: absolute honesty, open communication, and no fucking until significant progress is made.

You start slowly, with that unfulfilled date that had been the catalyst for you two finally confronting your feelings.

Hyunjin was nervous. The few times he’s gone on dates, his mind was set on wrapping it up as soon as possible to take the person home. It didn’t matter where they went or what they did; every date inevitably led to his bed.

This time was different.

You certainly weren’t expecting to have a picnic on a Saturday afternoon. Your surprise was evident as your eyes widened at the sight before you: Hyunjin, standing at your door with a picnic basket and a digital camera slung around his neck. When you jokingly commented on how that was the most un-Hyunjin thing you had ever seen him do, he nonchalantly shrugged.

As you two sat together under a tree, however, he told you he’s always loved picnics. Growing up near a park, picnics became a family tradition that started when he was just a kid and still happens whenever he visits his parents. The silly smile that was etched onto your lips lingered throughout the entire day. Hyunjin’s closed-off nature made that small piece of information feel like a precious gem you had just collected. It was far greater than any of the pointless conversations you two had in the last nine months.

It felt like watching another brick from his once towering wall shatter to the ground.

Hyunjin quit his job at the club a month after your first date.

He didn’t elaborate on it at first, simply telling you it felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. You had now learned it was best to give him space, as his tendency to shut himself off only worsened if he felt pressured. Deep inside, Hyunjin yearned to share every little detail about himself with you and hear your own stories in return. However, years of keeping everyone at a comfortable distance hindered his ability to open up without feeling vulnerable.

So you only pulled him into a hug, running your hands through his hair as he let out a heavy sigh. You two then set off for your date at a bakery close to your apartments, with the subject seemingly forgotten.

Until Hyunjin suddenly told you the entire truth under a lamppost in front of your building. He whispered that he didn’t want to go home yet, and you found yourselves sitting on the sidewalk as you listened to his story. You weren’t exactly shocked at the information dumped on you, but it still made your heart sore. He was taken advantage of because he longed to feel accepted, to feel loved.

During the elevator ride, you could tell Hyunjin was struggling to hold back tears with every ounce of his strength. You know he was eager to be alone when he pressed a weak kiss to your forehead before heading towards his door. So you reached out for his hand once more and pulled him toward your apartment despite his protests.

That night, Hyunjin struggled to suppress his tears until they ultimately overflowed out of his eyes and down his cheeks as you held him on the couch. Before you knew it, tears unwittingly streamed down your face as well. It was as if your emotions were a mirror image of his.

Another brick down.

You discover Hyunjin’s love for photography by accident.

Everywhere you went together, his camera was draped around his neck. At first, you paid little attention to that detail. His job consisted of being in front of a camera; it wouldn’t be outrageous to surmise he simply enjoyed documenting his daily life. You teased him about it one day as he stopped in front of a flower shop to snap yet another picture. He shrugged, casually telling you he’d been taking pictures since his teenage years, later majoring in photography before dropping out of university.

Unable to tame your nagging curiosity, you urged him to show you his pictures. Nestled deep inside his wardrobe were several boxes filled with photographs he had taken over the years. Most captured the simple beauty of ordinary places and simple things, like the pretty flowers he saw at the shop you walked past, but some showed people candidly laughing while immersed in the happiness of their daily lives in parks or museums.

He wore an unabashed grin on his lips when he opened another box, this one containing around ten developed pictures of you. Among the small pile of photos, one catches your eye: your smiling side profile beaming at a group of kids, a hand shielding your eyes from the sun. You turn the picture around, and the words “First date. I was so nervous, and she was so pretty” are scribbled in black sharpie. Hyunjin groaned beside you, telling you he just jotted down something stupid without much thought. It made you smile like a kid.

“Don’t worry,” he said with a weak chuckle, “I never show them to anybody. None of them are really good, anyway.”

You furrowed your brows at his words, studying his face for any hint of sarcasm. His pictures were beautiful, perfectly depicting how happiness and mundanity often blended into one unbeknownst to people. But Hyunjin noticed, with his camera always ready at the right time for the perfect shot, even with things as small as a snapshot of your first date.

“They’re amazing, Hyunjin,” you told him matter-of-factly. “This is the kind of thing you’d find in art galleries. I can’t believe you keep this talent hidden.”

He shrugs your words off at first, taking a photo in his hand and studying it for a few seconds. His lips curve into a small smile, shyly at first, until his face is beaming as he looks down at his work. You can’t help but smile along, noticing how his cheeks blushed for the first time since you met him.

Another brick down.

In two months, you and Hyunjin went from meeting only at your apartments to going on weekly dates and from pointless bickering to actually understanding each other. The more he opened up, the more you found yourself being vulnerable around him as well.

You learned Hyunjin’s confidence was truthfully a part of him; he simply played it up to a maddening degree to protect himself. He is a confident man, but he’s certainly not the egotistical idiot you once believed him to be.

Your suspicions about him secretly being a softie were also confirmed as you witnessed him cry nearly every time you watched the romance movies he sheepishly confessed to loving. At first, he would sniffle, rubbing his eyes and clearing his throat, before excusing himself to the bathroom. A few movies later, he allowed himself to openly cry in front of you for the second time. He’s proven to be a certified crier since then, often laying his head on your chest and silently shedding tears while you played with his hair.

At the end of the day, Hyunjin was a flawed, complex person like any other. He wasn’t always soft and sensitive, but he wasn’t only a cocky and smug little shit, either.

You found you loved both sides of him equally.

Your rules proved to be exactly what you needed, as you only felt closer to Hyunjin each passing day.

But a particular rule became your number one enemy after a month.

Your pent-up sexual frustration seemed to escalate with each passing day, fueling an increasing desire to just say fuck it and climb on top of Hyunjin. It certainly didn’t help that he was even clingier now, long limbs always tangling with yours when you lay on the couch, or his warm body pressing against you while you were cooking. Not to mention that you listened to him livestream every weekend. You opted to wait in his living room — because watching him would just be masochistic — but it felt like you had been transported back in time. Sitting alone for hours and listening to him moan was still as torturous as the first time it had happened. Even if you touched yourself to the sound of his voice, it was never enough.

You knew what you needed, but you have been essentially blueballing yourself for a month now.

As you two lie on your bed, watching another sappy romance movie, you can feel the heat rising inside your body, like a thermometer reaching its peak. You were fully expecting Hyunjin to cry, but this movie turned out to be far more erotic than romantic. His persistent need to have his lips on you — be it with a kiss or with lazy nibbles on your neck — also certainly doesn’t help your suffering.

You power through as you watch the love interests making out while Hyunjin lightly presses his lips to your neck, his body all but caging you against your bed. But the moment the couple heads to the bedroom, hastily undressing each other with heavy pants and sighs, you absentmindedly part your legs. Hyunjin is hovering above you before you can make sense of what’s happening, your laptop carelessly thrown to the side. His body pressed against yours, fitting perfectly between your thighs, as his darkening eyes bore into you.

“Hyunjin,” you have half a mind to say, “Our rule.”

He simply nods, and goosebumps ripple across your body when you feel his hardening member brush against you.

“We made progress,” he states with a grin. “You even let me into your room now.”

“It’s not enough to justify fucking again.”

As much as you were desperate for it.

He swallows slowly, nodding and bending his face to yours. “But our rule says no fucking,” he reasons. “If I make love to you, then it won’t even count.”

“Love?” You whisper, and the thermometer shatters as he presses a long kiss to your open lips.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin smiles between kisses, brushing his lips against yours. “Love.”

It’s not a clear confession, not a beautiful I love you whispered between kisses — but you know Hyunjin, and the sincerity in his voice says everything.

Your fingers clutch at the fabric of his shirt as you pull him even closer to you, and he promptly presses his mouth against yours, his tongue teasingly gliding across your bottom lip. Each roll of your hips ignites the heat within you like scorching lava, your desire swallowing you entirely after so long of craving this.

His tongue presses against yours, effortlessly taking control of the kiss, capturing your bottom lip with his teeth before releasing it and traveling toward your jaw. He sucks the sensitive skin into his mouth with a hum, drawing out a whimper from your lips while he moves down the column of your neck. Smiling against your collarbone, Hyunjin alternates between harsh nibbles and soft kisses, leaving blooming rosy spots on every inch of your skin. He travels toward your chest, his hands slipping under your shirt and brushing your skin before tugging off the fabric.

Hyunjin’s hands cup your breasts, your nipples tightening under his attention, and his lips move down your body, placing kisses from your chest to your stomach. His hand eagerly kneads the soft skin of your chest while the other pinches your nipple, rolling the sensitive nub between his fingertips.

“I missed this,” he whispers, voice muffled against your skin, and you let out a shaky breath as a response when his fingers toy with the waistband of your sweatpants. “That was a stupid rule.”

“Shut up.” You let out a breathy laugh. “It was a great rule, it helped us make progress.”

“Fuck progress,” Hyunjin groans, tugging your sweatpants off.

He wastes no time hoisting your legs over his shoulders, causing you to shudder and goosebumps to ripple through your body when his lips close around your clit without warning. His tongue licks long stripes up the length of your slit, his fingers spreading you open so he can lap at your arousal with a low hum. Hyunjin’s thumb rubs circles around your clit as his lips find your inner thighs, sucking and biting at the skin, leaving another blushing trail of his yearning for you.

His tongue delves into your wetness, savoring you with tantalizing, pleasure-filled groans that travel through your cunt. The insistent throb between your thighs intensifies, your hand tugging at his hair and your hips rolling into his touch as you arch your back. Hyunjin’s fingers dig into the skin of your thighs while you reach your peak, his teeth pulling your clit gently as you come with a broken cry.

Your cheeks are flushed, and your eyes are heavy with lust when he looks at you, his firm grip keeping your legs over his shoulders.

“You still think that rule was great?” Hyunjin gives you a lopsided grin that almost has you rolling your eyes, only he presses one last kiss to your sensitive clit, rending you unable to do anything but mewl and tug at his hair. He chuckles, pressing his lips to your inner thighs once more, his eyes still locked onto yours.

You needed him closer, his strong arms surrounding you and his scent enveloping your senses until you felt dizzy. The mere thought of his cock has you clenching, arousal trickling down your slit, and you tug at his hair harshly with a whine.

Hyunjin climbs over you again, tugging his shirt over his head in one fluid movement and crashing his lips into yours, the taste of your release swirling in your mouth as your tongues meet.

“You’re so fucking needy,” he chides. You simply hum, his thick length brushing against your core as he leans down to kiss you again.

“You’re one to talk,” you smirk, breaking the kiss and rolling your hips up into his erection. Hyunjin scoffs, his hands capturing your wrists and pinning them over your head, his eyes darkening as he looms over you.

There’s no more push and pull between you two during your daily lives, but it’s something you hope never fades away during sex. You’re sure Hyunjin’s need to have control, coupled with your taste for riling him up, will make sure that never happens.

But Hyunjin has no intentions of making you beg tonight — not after so many weeks of making himself cum to the thought of your pretty cunt, knowing that damn rule kept him from actually having you.

He tugs his sweatpants out of his way, one hand still pinning your wrists to the mattress. You bite your lip at the sight of his cock hanging heavily, tantalizingly close to your sopping cunt. Hyunjin strokes himself hastily, clearly having grown impatient, precum dribbling from the ruddy head of his cock and easing the glide of his fist.

The swollen tip slides against your wetness, and he lets out a shaky breath, pressing his forehead to yours. The delicious stretch as he presses inside has your hands instinctively reaching out to him. But his grip on your wrists only tightens, keeping them in place as he leans into you, stretching you further with a hiss.

“Fuck, I missed being buried in your cunt,” Hyunjin mumbles, and you moan as his teeth nip at your earlobe. “Always so tight, like you were made for me.”

He sheaths himself inside of you completely, and you arch your back with a groan as his cock twitches inside your sensitive spot.

“Made just for you,” you choke out as Hyunjin slowly thrusts into you, agonizingly slow and deliberate movements making you dig your nails into your palms. “Hyunjin,” his name dissipates into a whine as he pushes his cock in and out of you languidly.

He chuckles against the shell of your ear, and you wrap your legs around his torso, rolling your hips faster against him. The drawn-out moan that escapes his lips has your cunt clenching and leaking more arousal around his length.

“D’you still like the sound of my voice that much?” He hums, and you nod with a sigh. His slender fingers wrap around your throat, squeezing lightly. “Yeah? Like it when I moan in your ear?”

He finally picks up the pace, pulling back before snapping his hips forward. His lips swallow your moans as he kisses you once, his hand finally releasing your wrists and digging into your hips as he pumps his cock into you. He leaves a trail of wet kisses along your sweaty skin, tracing his tongue along the marks he left earlier.

“You’re mine,” he groans against your skin. “Been dying to say this for so fucking long.”

You gasp at his words, your body jerking when he slips his hand down to circle around your swollen clit. “‘M yours,” you whine, “Fuck me like I’m yours. Please—”

Hyunjin groans, your words igniting a fire within him, and his hips fall into a ruthless pace, pistoning his cock into you while his fingertips expertly stroke your clit. The hot coil of desire in your stomach tightens, finally breaking as your climax surges through every fiber of your being, a million stars bursting behind your eyelids.

“Fuck, you always feel so good,” Hyunjin rasps out, his movements shifting into a messy tempo. “Gonna fill you up, okay?”

You nod with a whimper, your overstimulated cunt clenching around his cock as his thrusts remain unrelenting. With a low grunt that ripples through his chest, Hyunjin’s hips slam into yours, his cock twitching and his grip on your throat tightening. He paints your insides with a final testament that you were his.

He stills on top of you, pressing featherlight kisses to your cheeks and lips, his cock softening inside of you as you stay that way for a while. When he pulls out, his fingers promptly smear his cum over your cunt as it leaks out, two digits thrusting his release back into you with a contented hum.

“Can we still fuck now that I found something better?” You ask him with a grin, and he laughs, burying his head in your neck.

Your mind is wholly clouded with bliss — both from your orgasm and the feeling of love that courses through your veins. You inwardly laugh. Hyunjin fucking you in your bedroom had definitely not tainted it. He had basically transformed your bed into a sanctuary.

Hyunjin helps you shower, gentle hands wash and caress your body before coaxing your third orgasm out of you under the soothing cascading water. He makes you a cup of your favorite tea the way you love it — which he made sure to memorize — and insists you two finish watching the forgotten movie before going to bed. It feels awfully domestic, and it would be a lie to say you hated it.

That night, you fall asleep beside Hyunjin in your bed for the first time; inside a little sacred space you are slowly building with him.

It was never your intention to be his. You were certain Hyunjin was the type of man who would never allow himself to be vulnerable, to truly fall in love with someone without his ego getting in the way. By keeping him at arm’s length, you believed you were guarding yourself from inevitable heartache.

Behind his cocky smirks and self-assured words, an amazing man hid himself out of deep-seated fears of rejection, unworthiness, and not being loved for his true self. Each day, he allowed glimpses of himself to shine through the cracks in his fortress. He became an enigma you were dying to unravel because you knew he was worth it.

Because you knew him.

And unbeknownst to you, Hyunjin has been yours all along. From the moment you walked into his apartment with a scowl and frustration-filled words, it was as if his heart became wired to crave you. He was simply hoping and waiting for you to become his as well.

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings, @seungseung-minmin, @yourcvndx, @hynjinnnnnnnie, @vlctorriaa, @yongbokkiesworld, @kiensecent, @redstayrosie, @wormieieie, @soonie1010, @dessianna1, @minimin1993, @idontlikecoffeeortea, @ashleighland, @oddracha, @sushiinmidnight, @lailac13, @badmaeda, @hynjinniesworld, @iheartjazz444, @cypher-girlx, @isagerada, @leviathanlee26, @sailor--sun, @binniesbabygirl

[rafeandonlyrafe]

baby shoes

words: 2.3k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, best friend!rafe, childhood friends to lovers, pretty fluffy :), p in v sex, unprotected smut, breeding!, pregnancy kink?, no actual sex while pregnant but lots of like. bump descriptions?

rafe rolls his eyes as you let out a squeal, already knowing what is happening.

“oh. my. god.” you pick up the baby shoes off the shelf, a pair of sparkly flats with the cutest flower straps you've ever seen. “rafe, they're so tiny!”

you hold them up for him to look at as if he's never seen baby shoes before, despite you pointing them out to him every time you're out shopping together.

“yeah, real cute.” he says, keeping his voice completely monotone.

“rafe, don't be so sour.” you pout at him. your friendship is an unexpected one. started in kindergarten and has only grown closer since, your sweet nature in contrast to rafes hard exterior.

“y/n.” rafe sighs, taking the baby shoes from your hands as he sets them back on the shelf. “we look at baby shoes and onesies every time we go to target. i brought you here to buy you a pair of boots, let's go.”

rafe tries to usher you down the aisle. despite you also being a kook he refuses to let you (or, really, your parents credit card) pay for anything.

you nod and continue to the women's section when you cross by a pair of ugg boots made for toddlers and stop in your tracks. “raaaafe!” you coo.

--

look how cute this baby is rafey

“are you serious?” rafe questions reading your text message. “im laying right next to you.”

“too much work to roll over and show you.” you shrug, both scrolling on your phones, having just gotten back from a long day. so long rafe insisted you slept at his because it was closer. only one block closer, but you didn't argue. rafes bed is also yours, and yours his. you've always shared, no need to change now just because you're older.

“that baby isn't even that cute.” rafe huffs out.

you turn over now, rolling onto your stomach to glare at him. “rafe cameron, you are such a dick!”

“oh, so you'll roll over to yell at me?” rafe questions, a smile on his face. usually he wouldn't take shit from anyone, but you're not just anyone to him.

“yes because you deserve it asshole. that baby is adorable.”

“yours would be way cuter.” rafe grins, knowing how flustered you get talking about having a child of your own.

“okay, true.” 

--

“what the fuck is going on?” rafe questions, his mouth literally dropping as he walks in.

“oh my god!” you squeal. “you told me you were coming over at 2, you idiot!” 

rafe looks at the time on your alarm clock. 1:55. rafe may have not knocked before letting himself in, but he figured it was fine. 

“what are you wearing?”

“it's… it's a fake pregnancy belly. my friend carly who works with the school plays said they were getting rid of it bc it was getting old… and i asked to have it.” you shrug, your embarrassment melting away the longer you talk about it.

“why would you want that?” rafe questions.

“i just wanted to see what id look like.” you shrug, turning again to look at yourself in the mirror, running your hands over the tshirt stretching around the plastic material. “i think i look cute.”

rafes eyes are on the round swell of your belly. he thinks you look more than cute, he thinks you look so ravishing he wants to make that belly real right this second.

“gonna take a shower.” rafe makes a turn towards your bathroom before you can argue, saving himself by locking the door behind him.

-- 

“why are you in a mood?” rafe just entered your house but he can already tell from the look on your face that something has upset you.

“freaking kelsey is pregnant.” you spit her name out like it's an insult. she's been your sworn moral enemy ever since she “dated” rafe in the fourth grade and told him he had to choose between staying friends with you or dating her. he chose staying friends of course, but you've despised her anyways since.

“okay…” rafe waits for more reasoning to you being so upset.

“that should be me.” you whine, not ashamed as you throw a little tantrum, stomping your feet on the ground.

“it can be.” rafe shrugs.

“huh?” you question, plopping back on the couch behind you, waiting for rafe to join you for movie night.

“you're not a kid anymore, y/n. you're 21. have a baby if you want.” rafe simply states.

“i- who would i even have a baby with? im single.” you've been single a majority of your life. there were flings in high school, but no one that lasted.

what you don't know if rafe contributed heavily to those relationships ending. he had staked his claim on you, and no guy was worthy in his eyes.

“id help you raise a baby.” rafe says without really thinking, sitting down on the couch next to you, not flinching as you turn to place your feet on his lap, always wanting to stretch out and get comfortable.

“you would?”

“im with you all the time anyways.” rafe nods. “if you had a baby id basically be their dad anyways.”

“id want that.” you admit. “you're the only guy out there i trust enough to get me pregnant.” you're not really thinking about your words themselves as you press your fingers to your stomach, imagining it filled up with a baby, with rafes baby.

“alright, we gotta talk about something else.” rafe shifts on the couch, pushing your feet off his lap to turn himself slightly away from you.

“wait why?” you question, sitting forward.

“just… change the subject.” rafe takes a deep breath, trying to calm down the boner that is growing in his pants.

“no, tell me!” you move closer, which only makes rafe turn away more. “tell me, rafey!”

he's never kept anything from you, and shockingly you can't figure out why he's behaving like this now.

“jesus, stop!” rafe scooches away when you grab onto his arm, trying to get him to face you, to look at you.

“tell me!” you complain again.

“because im fucking hard okay!” rafe shouts, standing up from the couch. “it's getting me fucking hard thinking about getting you pregnant so change the fucking subject!”

you sit on the couch in shock, eyes wide open. you know you shouldn't, he's your best friend after all, but you find your eyes moving lower, and sure enough, the front of rafes pants and tented, cock pushing away from his body.

“i-i-” you stammer.

“you nothing. okay? we forget this happened. just stop talking about getting fucking pregnant and stop talking about me being the one to do it.”

“but i want it to be you.” you blink up at rafe, head suddenly clearing. you do want it or be rafe. he's the only one who should be waking up in the middle of the night with you when your baby cries. he's the one you want to experience every milestone with. he's the one you want filling you up over and over until your tummy starts to swell.

“we can't go back.” rafe says, his tone suddenly serious. “we can't go back to just friends.”

“i know.” it's all you need to say for rafe to surge forward, dropping his knees to the floor as he kisses you, mouth easily dominating yours. you let out a soft moan as his hands cup your jaw, keeping you close even though you press yourself into him, hands fisted in his shirt.

“let me have you.” rafe pants against your mouth. “i need you. let me fill you up.”

“yes.” you nod. “yes, please. take your clothes off.”

you don't care that you're in the middle of your living room, you immediately tug your shirt off over your head, bearing your breasts to him. rafe knew you never wore a bra when in your own home, but seeing your bare tits is still a shock.

he doesn't even take his shirt off despite you tugging at it, cupping your chest as he leans in, mouth wrapping around your nipple.

“oh my god!” you squeal, fisting your hands in rafes hair, holding him close to your body as his tongue flicks over your nipple, hardening it quickly.

“i… im sorry baby i need to get inside of you.” rafe feels crude, tugging at your shorts to pull them down your legs, tossing them away.

“i need you too.” there will be plenty of time now that you've admitted feelings for each other to take your time, to go slow and learn each other's bodies.

rafe stands up, looking down at you in just your underwear, eyes glassy with lust as he pulls his shirt off, followed by him tugging his pants down, finally getting your eyes off his face as your eyes move down. you reach forward, hand rubbing over rafes length, annoyed that the fabric of his underwear is not allowing you to see him properly.

“fuck, stop.” rafe takes a step back. “im supposed to cum in you. get you pregnant. you're gonna make me bust.”

you smile, flattered that your simple touch can cause him to almost lose it.

“where do you want me.” you whisper. you aren't a virgin but you certainly aren't as experienced as rafe. while you know he partakes in hookups at parties you don't attend, you were never interested in sleeping around just for the sake of sleeping around.

“just lay back, baby.” rafe let's out a huff as you turn from sitting on the couch to laying down, your breasts falling beautifully as you wait for him to make the next move. “let's get these off.” rafe pulls your underwear down, but you keep your legs together to hide yourself for a little longer.

rafe shucks his underwear off next, praying his throbbing erection doesn't cause him to cum the second he gets inside of you.

you let out a low moan just from the both of you being naked. “gonna kneel down. wrap your leg around me.” rafe helps position you, spreading your legs as his eyes take in your wet cunt, pretty and perfect as he wraps your knee around his hips as he sinks himself down, moving to drape his body over yours.

“ill go slow.” rafe says, hoping he can stay true to his word as he reaches down, running his cock briefly through your folds, obsessed with the way your expression changed into one of pure pleasure.

“okay, just at first.” you nod. you need slow to open you up, to stretch your walls to allow rafes size, but you dont want it to stay slow, needing to feel him pound into you, make a mess of your cunt.

rafe sinks in with a gasp as your tightness and warmth envelops him. “fuck.” he mutters out, eyes squeezing closed as he inserts himself until he’s fully buried inside you pussy.

“feels real good rafey.” you pout. “cant believe we didn’t do this sooner. could already have a baby by now.” “oh, im gonna give you plenty.” rafe bends down to kiss you, letting himself get lost in the kiss, focusing on your mouth against his to distract from his throbbing cock.

“move.” you gasp, starting to grind your hips. “move.”

its all rafe needs to start smashing his hips back and forth, rocking into you in a steady but fast motion, aiming every time to get his cock as deep inside of you as possible.

“yes, yes!” you squeal, hands gripping his shoulders. as good as rafe thrusting into you feels, you want his cum more than anything. you begin to squeeze your pussy around him every time he pulls out before thrusting back in, and you can tell from the way rafes mouth hangs open that he likes it.

“fuck, im already close, sorry.” rafe has never had a problem cumming too early with anyone else, but hes never been with you, his best friend who he’s been head over heels for since kindergarten, who is begging to have him put a baby in your womb.

“cum in me. please.” you don’t even care about your own orgasm. you don’t even want it, already feeling so overwhelmed from the way rafes cock swells inside of you.

your eyebrows raise when you realize what the warmth spreading inside of you is, never having let a man take you without a condom. you let out a moan to match rafes as he cums, flooding your insides as he grinds into you. 

you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down onto you, not caring about the weight as you squeeze your cunt, milking any last drops out of him.

--

“oh my god, i’m gonna cry its so cute.” tears brim in your eyes as you look at your finished nursery, rafe having done the last of the decorations when you were napping, putting the final touches on.

“you're so cute.” he hums, wrapping his arms around you as he stands behind you, also looking over the room. 

“thank you. its perfect.” you sniffle.

“you’re perfect.” rafe has been overwhelming you with compliments lately, wanting to make sure that you know he is still very much attracted to you with your pregnant belly. “and beautiful. and hot. and sexy.” “oh, stop it.” you roll your eyes with a giggle, turning to face rafe.

“it would be inappropriate to have sex in our babies nursery, wouldn’t it?” despite the baby not even being here yet, rafe looks around the former guest bedroom and realizes that it simply wouldn’t be right.

“you’re not getting me on the floor anyways.” you press your hands to your stomach. seven months along with rafes baby.

“probably for the best.” rafe places his hand on your back, leading you out of the nursery and towards your bed. “wanna eat you out on our bed anyways, mamas.”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @folklorsweet @soilderpoetandking @auryyz

[sapphicmsmarvel]

"hey bitch, what's for dinner?"

Cassian dares his besties (eris, lucien and tarquin included) to ask their mates “hey bitch, what’s for dinner?” 

some are short. some medium. one large (for a headcanon type fic). Also this is mostly dialogue because I didn't want to keep repeating body motions (they shrug a lot, they cuddle a lot, etc, etc, etc). 

Azriel:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?” He really tried not to let his voice crack, but he couldn't help it. The idea of calling you something foul outside the bedroom is painful. 

“Based on the way your voice got quieter for that word, I'm going to assume this is a stupid dare from Cassian. And that you aren’t actually that stupid to talk to me like that.” You said as you continued to stir the pot of soup. 

“I’m so relieved you know me that well.” He couldn’t help his sigh. 

You snorted as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “If I ever actually talk to you like that, take Truthteller and use it, cause it’s not me.” 

You let out another snort. “My big baby.” You said, taking your hand up and ruffling Azriel’s hair as he pressed kisses to your neck. 

Cassian:

He came in so confident too. But quickly was humbled. 

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?” 

“Wanna try that again?” He doesn’t get scared of much, but your calm tone in this moment will strike fear into his heart.

“No, ma’am.” He shook his head. 

“And what did we learn?” 

“Never say that stuff to my spouse and mate who I love very much?” He asked. 

“Mhm.” you hummed as he came up to hug you. “Speak to me like that again and I’m cutting your hair off.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Rhysand:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?”

He didn’t even get a chance to breathe after that sentence because you turned around with the knife in your hand. Seriously, what an idiot approaching you with that stupid shit while you’re cooking dinner. You’re hungry and holding a knife. 

You stabbed it into the countertop, it made a twang sound and shook from the force of you stabbing it. 

“The fuck did you just say to me?” 

“…” 

“Go on say it again since you wanna be all cocky.” You leaned against the counter with your arms crossed. 

“I love you.” Not much scared him, but his wife humbled the shit out of him. 

Your mouth made a flat line and your brows raised as you said, “Mhm.” 

“And I’ll do whatever you want for a month. Hell, the rest of our lives.”

“Mhm.” You ripped the knife out of the counter and then turned around and continued chopping vegetables. 

“Honey?”

“You know, I think I’ll invite Feyre and her wife over for dinner. They wouldn’t call me that.” You continued. 

“Baby,” he began and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“Maybe I’ll invite Cassian and Azriel’s wives too, they’ll understand what it’s like to be married to the stupidest motherfucker we know.” 

He pressed a kiss to your clothes shoulder. 

“Are you done?”

“You have no idea the doghouse you’re in right now.” 

“Does it help if I told you that Cassian dared me.” 

You set the knife down and turned around in his arms. “You’re still an idiot.” You wound your arms around his neck, your fingers playing with baby hairs growing at the nape of his neck. 

“I know.” 

“Good,” you said and smacked his ass.

He yelped. 

Feyre:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?”

“What crawled up your ass and died?” You asked. 

She couldn’t help but giggle. “I love that you humble me.” 

“Me and Rhys’ wife have a load on our hands considering you fools are best friends. You have got to stop influencing each other.” 

She hummed at the thought of her best friend and his wife. She put her arms around your waist and you leaned into her. “One day, we’re gonna snap and kill you.” She kissed the area between your neck and shoulder. “We have the best wives.”

“You got that right.” You reached around and smacked her ass. But you miscalculated and hit her hip. 

Morrigan:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?”

“Nothing, slut. Bend over the table and spread your cheeks, if you think you can talk to me like that I’ll show you otherwise.” 

 You sat up from your spot on the couch looking at her with a “WTF” expression. 

The woman was too stunned to speak.  “It was a joke but now I’m horny.” 

You laughed, “into degradation are we?” 

“Didn’t think I was, but hey you learn something new everyday.” She shrugged, actually thankful for Cassian because now she could explore this new thing with her wife. 

Amren:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?” She opened the door to your shared home to yell. When she heard nothing but silence she was concerned, she could smell you, you were home. 

“Y/N?” She called. 

She walked into your living room from the entry hall to find you standing there. Staring at her with sad, wide eyes. 

“Love?” 

“….what’d i do?” Your voice wavered and she couldn’t take it. She pulled you into her arms and rocked you side to side. 

“If I ever speak to you like that, you better smack me across the fucking mouth.” Was all she said. “Why’d you say that?” You sniffed. You two pulled away from each other, only enough to lean your foreheads together. “Cassian got it in his big dumb brain that it was a good idea to say that to our mates.” She whispered and wiped your cheeks with her thumbs. 

“He’s an idiot.” You deadpanned. 

“I'm aware.” “And you’re an idiot for doing it.” 

“I deserve that.” Was all she said before she kissed you. 

Nesta:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?”

You were silent and she looked at you from her spot on the couch. You were staring at her wide eyed, your eyes began watering. 

“Y/N?”

“That really hurt my feelings, Nes.” You were about to cry. 

She shot off from her spot on the couch and crawled into the chair you were sitting in. She pulled you into her chest. 

“Oh baby.” She said, “it was a stupid fucking prank from Cassian.” She whispered at the top of your head, kissing your hair. 

“Tell that overgrown bitch of a bat to watch his back.” Your voice was muffled from her tits. 

“I will.” She scratched your head lightly. 

“Nes?”

“Yes, my love?”

“You ever speak to me like that again, I’ll make you wish you never met me.”

She let out a laugh like breath through her nose. “Okay, baby.” 

“Tears and all I’ll pummel you.” You declared and she kissed your head, rocking you back and forth. 

“I know.” 

Elain:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?”

“I will grill your flowers if you talk to me like that again.”

She cackled like the witch she is. 

Lucien:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?”

“Soap.”

“Soap?” 

“If you’re going to talk to me like that, you’re getting soap. Bitch.” You threw a jar of soap at him. “Go put that on spaghetti.” 

Eris:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?”

You whipped off your shoe and threw it at him. Feyre taught you that move. He didn’t duck, he just let it hit him because he knew his dumbass deserved it.  

Tarquin:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?”

“My ass.” 

He loves that you match his freak, “I'm so relieved you didn’t think I was serious.” 

“You aren’t that stupid, plus, Azriel’s mate sent a missive because he tried it.” 

“Drinking with Cassian is the worst.”

“And yet, your dumbass still did it.” 

“The drinking or the dare?” “Both.” 

[periprose]

May i request a Logan x angel!reader fic where the reader had to get medical treatment after a mission because her angel wings (that are apart of her mutation) were burned and partially damaged after battle, and Logan comes in to check up on her?

anon I loved this ask ahhhh thank you. I'm like half considering making this a series if people want it (so send more angel requests if you're into it!) <3 I may have made it more angsty but there is fluff at the end :) also reader goes by Angel in this fic.

When Flight Comes to Fire (or, Logan gains an Angel)

Word count: 4.5k

Genre: Best friends to lovers, mutual pining, X-Men stuff, idiots in love, angst, hurt no comfort, fluff, kissing

The first time your mutation made it’s appearance– sharp shoulder blades growing into thick appendages, soft, buttery white feathers extending from them in that unhuman way, your wingspan making it clear you would never be normal– your mother retched and said she would have done anything to chop them off of you. Would’ve done anything to have a normal kid.

In fact, she tried, multiple times, to do so. You were only twelve when she came at you for the first time, in your sleep, feeling falsely secure in your father’s platitudes about how she would never really do anything. You woke up to her reaching inside your blanket, grasping one of your wings as she brandished a knife in her other hand. Luckily, your wings were strong enough to shove her off, but you remember how you screamed at her.

Why, mom? It’s me! It’s me–

She didn’t listen, coming at you again, promising in delirious anger that everything would be okay soon if you would just let her fix it, and she had to be held back by your father, as he called the police. 

Because you were her kid, she got let off with a warning, and you were stuck. So you would often fly to the tallest treetops and take your rest there, trying your best to ignore your mother’s other attempts on your life. She didn’t seem to ever get it. You would never be normal.

The final attempt was probably the worst, and the one that caused you to fly away in the end to Charles Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.

You were twenty years old, just old enough to legally leave home– you only stayed because your father insisted. 

She set your favourite tree on fire. You had no idea your mom had been in enough anguish to essentially murder you for daring to be different.

You awoke to the deep smell of smoke, of tree bark charring, and then you heard the cracking and sparks. The tree quickly caught fire, and you shrieked in pure terror as the heat of the flames approached you. The immense light emitting from the fire blinded you, and suddenly there was a sharp pain from your wings and back– you were getting scorched.

So you flew upwards, high enough that the fire dissipated off your back instantly in the cool night sky’s air, and you were fine. Nothing to show other than a little scar, and the sounds of mutiny coming from your mother below. 

You chose to forget her– no point in repairing a relationship with a woman who didn’t want you as you were.

But you’ve never forgotten the pain of being burned alive.

/

“Angel. You ready?” Logan is to your right in the foyer of the mansion. “Everyone else is waiting in the helicarrier.”

He’s your best friend, has been ever since you came to the X-Mansion as a runaway. It’s not an uncommon story among mutants, but Logan always felt you were like him. Rough, not the easiest to speak to, having a tendency to keep to yourself.

The major difference to him is that you’re a lot easier on the eyes. 

Seriously, it was almost like the universe was playing a joke on him. Here was a beautiful girl with literal angel wings, just missing a halo as she arrived at the door for the School for the first time, and he just happened to be the first ugly motherfucker to open the door.

Logan’s never quite sure why you keep up with him, why you stay friends with him, if he was just lucky enough to be the first person you saw and liked. It drives him nuts, the way in which you rely on him, trust him more than he thinks he deserves, you come to him at every moment just to talk over everyone else, when surely you could have anyone else’s attention.

Especially any stupid guy, like him. He’s not sure how you haven’t noticed– even now on the staircase, he can’t tear his gaze away from you. Logan feels bad to be so in love with you, too– he wonders if he’s reading into things too much, if he’s pushing for something that isn’t really there.

And he’ll never know, because you’re so damn flighty. Logan can barely keep up with your whims, and he only knows as much as you’ll tell him about yourself (he hardly knows where you came from that fateful first day), so he just lets you come and go as you please. He’ll keep his feelings deep inside, where you can’t possibly find out about it.

“Yup, I’m fine.” You have a brief smile for him, which gives him that familiar twist of the stomach. “Oh. You’re not wearing your uniform?”

“It’s better to be incognito for this one, according to Scott.” Logan says, adjusting his flannel, mildly enjoying how you check him out. 

You’re wearing the typical X-Men uniform– bright yellow, blue stripes down your sides, room for wings with a removable panel in the back. You let them loose, now, telling Logan you’ll be right back.

When you return, with quite a flourish, flapping wings in a true superhero-landing– Logan sees that you’re wearing a tank-top, and some jeans that really, really highlight your ass– but he tries not to focus on that.

“Hey. Tank’s inside out, Angel.” Logan says, waiting for you to fly off again, but you simply take off the tank top, and pull it back on the right way, exposing your bra-covered chest and lithe waist for the briefest of moments, while Logan loses whatever he was about to say. “I…”

“Don’t be a perv, Logan.” You jokingly side-eye him, never suspecting that that could actually be true as you tease him. “You’ve seen me change tons of times.”

“Yeah, but out in the open?” Logan stares at you. “You’re gonna have a shit-ton of admirers if you keep that up.”

“It’s just me, please.” You start up this whole I’m-not-pretty schtick that Logan is pretty sick of hearing, and he shakes his head. “Let’s go. They’re waiting.”

Yeah, Logan thinks, they are waiting, but he’s not sure you needed to be all quick and nonchalant about changing, just to get there faster.

That’s what he means by you being flighty– who knows what’s really in your heart, when you act so quickly?

/

“Listen up, X-Men. We’re gonna do our best to avoid damages today, right?” Scott speaks with the air of a leader who’s very fed up with his team members. 

There’s a resounding yes from everyone, including you, Logan, Jean, Storm, Bobby, Rogue, Jubilee, and Kitty.

“What’s our mission?” Scott says, and you answer first.

“Find the new mutant.” You state, and Scott nods, while Logan hides a smile at how adept you’ve gotten at these missions.

“Make sure he doesn’t defect to the Brotherhood.” Jean adds, looking at you and Logan, seeing how close you two sit to each other. She’s kept it to herself– but Jean thinks if you and Logan really do have something going on, that would be nice. For the both of you.

“No damages.” Logan chimes in, and Scott visibly loses a little composure.

“I already said that.” Scott points out, and Logan shrugs. 

“Well, it’s part of the plan, isn’t it?” Logan leans back in his seat on the helicarrier, nestling his head next to your shoulder, not noticing the way your eyebrows raise at the sudden contact. “Better than me not listening at all.”

“Sure, Logan. Fine.” Scott lets it go, knowing better than to ask more from the most “chill” (read: laziest) member of the team.

You laugh a little as Logan smiles a cocky grin.

/

The new mutant is kind of old– you’re looking for a 19 year old with severe singing around his clothes, pale skin, and black hair. You suppose he’d be extremely frightened.

Most mutants don’t deal well with becoming different all so suddenly, let alone at the very late age of 19, when you could assume that you’re pretty much normal. So you and Jean are hoping to find him first– you figure you’re the two that could calm him down.

Unfortunately, you find Jubilee talking to him first. She’s okay, but she has a tendency to be a little too bombastic, as Jean says quite often.

“And there she goes.” Jean grimaces as Jubilee taps the new mutant’s shoulder, and you pick up her saying that “she’s just like him,” which you’re not sure is a delicate way to deal with the topic.

There are crowds of people walking through the streets, too, and a lot of them are glancing at this yellow-jacketed girl talking to a boy with burnt clothes.

If you had found him, you would have brought him to the side, away from people, and–

“His face turned white. He’s freaking out.” You tell Jean, and her eyes narrow.

Bobby, Rogue, and Kitty are nowhere in sight, so this is just one weird young adult speaking to another one, and you really, really wish the rest were here. You, Jean, Logan and Scott are a bit older– perhaps comforting in your age– but you feel like the boy would’ve done well with more peers.

Jubilee raises her hand as you and Jean approach her. “Guys, I got it under control. See, Kyle, these are more people like us. More mutants.”

“...” Kyle looks on in disbelief.

“Kyle?” You try, and he looks at you– there’s something in his eyes that tells you he wants to trust you, but he’s scared– it reminds you of yourself. “We’re here for you if you want us to be. Take your time. Don’t worry.”

You smile, Jean smiles, Jubilee grins, and Kyle seems okay.

It lasts for about two seconds.

Someone drops what sounds like a glass bottle in the distance, and the shattering sound is enough for Jubilee to gasp, a little spark of fireworks launching from her fingertips, towards Kyle, who watches on in trepidation, and his body starts shaking, moving of it’s own accord, clearly reacting to being so close to another form of heat– and you and Jean move, as you yell out “Wait!–”

Kyle shrieks in fear as his body becomes overtaken with flames, combusting with such intensity that the flames roar at least 100 feet over, and Jean– Phoenix that she is– is able to withstand the heat, but you find yourself being pushed back by hot gusts of wind.

It hurts, it feels as if your skin is melting with every passing second. You grit your teeth, trying to breathe as Kyle loses control of his body, and you open your wings, deciding that flying off into the cool air would be a better alternative.

That was a mistake on your part.

The moment you open your wings, Kyle’s fire pushes you backwards, and up, into the hot air, and your wings catch fire as you come too close–

You scream, but it’s unheard through the roar of the flames, and you barely have time to catch yourself as you fall towards the ground, smoking, fiery tendrils engulfing you.

The last thing you remember is your mother’s face.

/

Logan sees it happen from a distance.

Scott wanted him to be as close as possible, something about keeping watch on him– and Logan gets it, he’s not always the most responsible, but later on, in hindsight, he wishes he was, because then he wouldn’t have missed what happened to you– and they both turn as a fire overtakes a block of the city.

“Shit, that must be him!” Scott starts running, Logan not far behind.

It’s only when he sees a pair of white wings, a woman flying up, up, up, the fire approaching dangerously close to her– to you– he starts speeding up, overtaking Scott, pushing people out of the way.

Logan wonders what he could do, anyways. He’s invincible, practically, incapable of taking on much damage as his regenerative abilities heal him– perhaps he could run to the kid and knock him out, sustaining burns in the process, but better him than you.

Never you.

Any second now– Logan sees the boy, and he’s got an open fist ready to lightly tap the back of his neck.

He’s not fast enough. Scott yells out, and Logan looks up to see you engulfed in flames, as you scream, and it’s awful to hear– usually you seemed so speedy, so ready to fly at a moment’s notice, that Logan forgot you could be hurt.

He calls out your name. It’s unheard by you as you crash on the ground, still burning– Bobby, Kitty, and Rogue have caught up to you from the other side of the street, and Bobby quickly makes an icy mist that subdues the flames on you, and Kyle’s roaring fire back into him.  

You’re unconscious as the X-Men approach you. 

Logan touches your face as he kneels next to you, the only one willing to come close right now. “Hey, Angel…”

There’s that unspoken fondness between you two, yet again. Everyone knows, even when Logan has tried to act cool about it. Even now, when Logan attempts to act like he isn’t totally hanging on to your potential words, searching for a breath, a little movement of your head. 

Jean, Scott, Jubilee, and the rest look on in trepidation.

You don’t respond, and he feels his heart plummet. You’re covered in burns, mostly across your stomach and back, and he inhales sharply as he turns you over– there’s fresh, scalded skin, crispy-red to the touch.

Your back, your wings– they’re damaged so badly, with feathers singed straight off, the muscular appendages more visible and wounded, and Logan doesn’t know if you’re alive. He almost removes his hands from you, the very thought seeming to scald him from the inside, and he glares at the kid– the one who looks terribly guilty, now, as he runs away.

“Get back here!” Kitty shouts at him, anger in her eyes, and Scott pulls her aside, explaining that it was clearly an accident of sorts– something that Jean confirms for him with a nod of her head.

Right, Jean. Logan knows that if anyone could confirm if you’re alive, it would be her.  

As Scott, Kitty, Bobby, and Jubilee go hunting for the kid– Rogue stays behind because she’s always felt close to you and Logan– Logan looks up at Jean in a solemn, teary-eyed look that has her understanding immediately.

“C’mon, Angel… stay with us.” She mutters, as she presses her fingers to your head, and she smiles comfortingly at Logan.

“She’s still here. Just barely, but still here.” Jean says, and Logan sighs, an angry, long sigh that tells Jean and Rogue that he’s going to be insufferably feeling at-fault here, even though no one is.

“Let’s go.” He picks you up, feeling the burnt skin through that damn tank-top, now barely being held together as tatters– for modesty’s sake, he takes off his flannel and wraps it around you.

Rogue lets Logan and you walk forward a bit, not wanting him to hear what she’s about to say, and then looks towards Jean. “He really loves her, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Jean exhales. “Let’s hope for his sake that she’ll be okay.”

/

Stupid bitch! You’ve been nothing but a curse on this family– fuck you, I hope your future daughter is just as fucked up as you are–

You awake suddenly, with a loud gasp and yell, your mother’s last words to you flashing on your mind– you attempt to pull yourself forward restrained back by tubing in your arm. You’re stuck in a bed. In a hospital bed of sorts.

Not just any hospital bed, one in the hospital wing of the X-Mansion.

You’re calm, at first, until there’s a sudden ache echoing from your back, through your body, through your wings.

“Ah–!” You groan in pain. Trying to move suddenly has hurt you.

There’s a knock at your door. It’s Beast– or, Dr. Hank McCoy, as he’s better known around the hospital wing.

“You’re awake.” Hank says in relief. “It’s been a few days since your accident.”

“It has?” You widen your eyes in shock. “How, w-what… am I okay?”

The last thing you remember is Kyle exploding in flames, causing you to catch fire– then you blacked out, and– you’re having terrible memories of your mother.

“Hank?” You mutter, and he’s quick to come to your side, blue paw-hand holding your own.

“My mother didn’t…”

“No, she’s not here. She’s never come close to you. You’re safe.” Hank states, as Charles has told him to, remembering the few times you’ve had to come to the hospital wing for comfort before. 

So many mutants have troubled backstories, and he doesn’t quite understand why you don’t try to connect with others about it. Hank feels it could really help, but you’ve always changed the subject away from you.

You’re hurt, mentally, in a way that no one can really fix, and Hank is a big believer in letting people progress when they need to– but he’s so glad that you’ve bonded with Logan. 

“Am I going to be okay?” You tap the side of the bed, fears present in your eyes. “Last thing I remember is Kyle going crazy, and I– I got all burnt–”

“Yes, you’re going to be okay. We’ve administered lots of injections, topical ointments, everything that boosts your healing. You might have some scarring after this is all over, but no injuries. You’re very lucky, Angel.” Hank comforts you, and encourages you to lie back.  

“Lucky. Is that what you’d call a girl with a fucked up state of mind?” You murmur, and Hank shakes his head.

“We’re all fucked up.” Hank gets back up, leaving you in your room. “It’s a prerogative to being in the X-Men.”

You smile softly at that. He’s not wrong, but you wish, you really wish you could’ve just been that normal girl that your parents would’ve loved.

You look down at yourself. You’re wearing hospital scrubs, but there’s an unfamiliar fabric underneath the blanket.

Logan’s flannel is splayed across your stomach, a comforting, soft feeling that has you missing him almost instantly. Had he visited you, when you were unconscious, and decided to leave you this as a token, to help you feel at home? 

You lift it up, taking a deep smell of Logan’s signature scent– pinewood, smoke, and something kind of sweet, like… marshmallows? 

It makes you blush, but almost immediately after, you place the flannel back under the blanket. Logan doesn’t need your silly crush, your overt attachment, and you’re smart enough to keep that to yourself.

/

Logan hears from Hank that you’re awake, and although he wonders why Hank told him first, rather than Charles, or Jean, he’s glad to be the first one to see you.

“Hey.” He knocks on your door. To Logan’s surprise, he lets go of a breath he was holding– you don’t look horrific, you have some colour in your face, and there’s a soft smile on your lips when you see him.

You look just like Angel. His best friend. And he comes in real close, ruffling your hair as he often does, maybe more gentle because he doesn’t want to add any more pain.

“Hey, Logan.” You grab his hand, squeezing it with warmth, grateful to see him, before letting go suddenly and looking away bashfully, and he pauses, reminding himself not to think too highly of it.

“Angel. You’re feeling better?” He asks, and you motion for him to sit down on the edge of your bed.

“Yeah. Yeah, I feel okay.” You stare at him. It’s only been a few days, but Logan looks kind of awful– he’s got some serious dark under-eye bags going on, and stubble that is slowly turning into a beard, and there’s an apparent worry on his face that makes you just want to comfort him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Logan tries to ward off your answer with a stern, one word reply, but you’re not having it.

“Really? You don’t look so great.” You say, not without tact. “I hope you weren’t all cooped up in your room, worrying about me.”

Logan makes a sound that’s half way between a sigh, and a laugh at how close you always seem to get to the truth.

“Alright, yeah. Yeah, I was worried to hell about you. Is that what you wanted to hear?” He jokes, but your face falls.

“You don’t have to do that. I’m good now, I don’t…” There’s an air of seriousness coming from you, that Logan doesn’t typically see, something you usually don’t let yourself do. 

“Are you good? Let me see your back, Angel–” Before Logan can even move you to the side, you turn in defiance, letting him see that you are healing. There are still parts of your flesh, red and angry, but for the most part it seems okay, already far better than it was a couple days ago.

Logan breathes a sigh of relief, touching your wings with a tenderness that has you leaning into his touch, and he gently skims over a scar of yours, glad to see that you’re genuinely not as hurt as he thought– but you pull away quite quickly.

“See? You don’t need to care so much, I’m fine.” You sound accidentally very accusatory, but Logan is just as much of a stubborn asshole as you are sometimes, and he narrows his eyes.

“What the fuck does that mean?” He stares at you. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Friends care about each other. Jesus, you’re the one who always– you’re always checking up on me, sneaking into my room, touching my face and arms and– how else am I supposed to take that?”

It sounds romantic, Logan realizes, after he’s spit all that out– and it does sound like he’s putting the blame of your dynamic on you. And, even worse, it’s all just out there in the open.

“Really. I’m not the only one who cares, Logan, you…” You shake your head, and instead pull his flannel out from under the blanket. “You left this for me. Why do you make it sound like it’s all just me?”

“Okay, fine, it isn’t. Leave it alone, Angel.” Logan pleads a little, his face turning red.

“You’re always acting like I’m gorgeous, you constantly hug me and lean into me, there was that time you let me sleep on top of you–” You continue, feeling more and more confused. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you sound like an asshole.”

Logan blinks, feeling the argument dissipate, as it often does, whenever you get close to confronting each other about feelings– you always manage to fly away.

He won’t let you, not this time.

“You didn’t. I am an asshole– I’ve never bothered to tell you how I feel.” Logan mutters, and the way your face blanches in fear, shyness, tells him to keep going, to push the boundaries. “I let my own stupid ego get in the way of actually caring about you, and I’m not going to make that mistake again. I’ve always– I really love you, Angel. And I’m sorry I never made you feel like that was true, I’m sorry that it’s taken until you got hurt for it to be real.”

You have an incredulous look on your face, one Logan wishes he could take a picture of and frame somewhere, because it’s genuinely funny, but then your lip quivers, and he feels like an asshole again.

You feel like an idiot. You think, all this time, what’s bothered you is that you’ve been avoiding the fire– the real ones, sure, but more the things your mother fostered in you. Your trust issues, the way how you hold people dearly in your heart but you can’t let them get close because you worry you’ll never be enough, it’s all been burning for years inside you, and you’ve never had to confront it until Logan decided to stoke the flames.

“It’s always been real for me, too.” You whisper, trying not to cry. “I just… I don’t always believe if people care about me, I never feel good enough to be something for anyone. It’s not you, Logan, it’s my mom, my upbringing, really.”

You give him a short, brief explanation of what your mom did– something you’ll surely expand on later, when it’s not so fresh, when you haven’t been literally burned recently, and the memories pain you more than ever– and Logan’s face turns sharp, his brows furrow, he’s clearly deeply angry by whatever you’ve just told him. 

“I’m stupid. I just assumed– it was me putting too much pressure on you. You shouldn’t have been on this mission, that’s fucking awful.” He finally says, and then scowls. “I know you don’t want to hear it right now, but fuck that lady.”

You snort at that. “Yeah. Yeah, it was never you– I’ve always loved you too, Logan, more than you know. I’m sorry I’m always running from you.”

“Oh, so you’re consciously doing that?” He teases, trying not to react too much to your proclamation of love for him, although his brain feels as if it’s short-circuited. He squeezes your hand, and you laugh.

“Yup. I’m almost glad I got hurt, if it makes us more serious.” You comment, but Logan turns glum at that.

“Don’t say that, Angel. I still feel bad about it.” Logan holds your face, caressing your cheeks, staring into your eyes, glad now that you’re not going to shove him away. “Next time, I’ll try to take the hits. I’ll live.”

“You don’t have to–” Before you can start rejecting Logan’s offer, he leans in really close, almost kissing you but not quite, his breath hot on your own mouth.

“I want you to live.” He murmurs, and you feel yourself turn warm at that. 

When he presses his lips to yours, it’s almost chaste, because Logan still isn’t sure how many of your walls he can break down in one day– but for once you’re quick to act in the opposite direction now, lifting tubes out of your arm (irresponsible as hell, Logan would say later on) so you can better reach his face, and you run your fingers through his hair as you kiss him, again, and again. 

It’s soft, pliant, and warm, and Logan doesn’t quite know what to say when you come back up for air, breathing deeply, body sweaty from both recovery and how intense this is– he feels around you, around your waist as he leans in again, and you giggle, pulling away for just a moment before kissing him again.

His hands are gentle, skimming over your body without trying to hurt the burns on your back– but Logan feels you clamber onto him, onto his lap, and then he feels the soft feathers of your wings as they pull themselves outward, into the open.

He opens his eyes, and grins in a wolfish manner. Maybe you’ve been changed by what happened, maybe you aren’t the same, but you’re his Angel now, and he prefers that.

He kisses you again.

[bitchimasnake-sss]

YOUR YUJI FIC WAS SO YUMMY 😳 I would love a part 2 if you’re ever up for writing it! 🥹

GUESS WHO'S BACK FROM THE FUCKING DEAD. ME. ME. I AM BACK AAAAAAAAAAAAAGH (im sorry i just missed writing). well, anyways, with me comes the power of horny <3

ps: this took me fucking four days to write and i don't even think it's good 😭😭 writers block is a bitch

🧸learning some lessons ft. yuuji itadori!

continuation of my previous fic "teaching some lessons", so, i suggest read that first to ensure you're fully immersed into the horny storyline. set-up: yuuji itadori. the quarterback, the guy you're giving "sex ed" lessons, and ofcourse, the brother of your childhood best friend sukuna. what could ever go wrong with this combination? nothing, i hope? warnings: contains nsfw concepts such as yuuji's first time, overstimulation, penetration, a bit of porn logic. and as always, sukuna, nobara and megumi are fucking menaces. stay blessed y'all, and minors DO NOT INTERACT I WILL FIND YOU AND HUNT YOUR ASSES. [ALSO A LITTLE BIT OF TOJI AND GOJO SLANDER IM SORRY] wc: 6.4k porn with A LOT of plot [like 70% plot im sorry]

"dude." megumi's usual nonchalant demeanor had faded in a matter of seconds. now, each of his drawled out words had a certain twinge of dread, "this is actually fucking insane."

"hm?" the pink-haired quarterback didn't even bother to dignify his best friend's statement with a proper answer. he was too busy rapidly pressing the controls, trying to get the shots right.

but megumi's hand had gone slack, the controller barely held limply in his palm. he turned to stare down the forementioned pink-headed idiot. he repeated himself, "yuuji."

"gumi—" yuuji hissed back, "we're losing, fucking focus."

"you just told me that you're fucking sukuna's best friend. her." megumi deadpanned, "the only thing i need to focus on is arranging your funeral."

yuuji hissed through his teeth as his player got shot right in the head and a definitive 'GAME OVER' flashed all across the tv screen. he sunk backwards into the comfortable couch at the fushiguro household. megumi shifted backwards too, slumping next to his best friend with a resigned sigh.

the house was eerily quiet, save for the sounds of the background score of the game playing in the background. yuuji knew tsumiki was out shopping with her friends, and gojo was out annoying the hell out of someone or the other (possibly, coach nanamin). who else was to be considered in the fushiguro household? toji fushiguro? he was an enigma. he came when he felt like and left just as soon. a model poster boy for giving people daddy issues, yuuji presumed.

"have i told you your couch is super nice?" yuuji asked as he stared at the overhead lighting before sweeping his gaze over the modern living room.

"multiple times."

the quarterback snorted, "you remember the time i got drunk—"

"—and tried to take the couch home. yes, i do. i also remember the time sukuna chased you with a knife cause you took his last pack of cheetos. imagine what he would do when you take his best friend."

yuuji pouted, giving megumi a side-eye he couldn't miss, "you're no fun."

"be for fucking real." the raved head sat up, turning towards yuuji at lightning speed. his eyes squinted in scrutiny, "you're the one making idle chit-chat as if sukuna isn't gonna kill you the moment he finds out what you and her have been up to."

"yeah but—" yuuji sighed, rubbing his palms against his face slowly, "is it really that big of a deal? i mean, it's just a few lessons here and there. it's not like she likes me or something—"

"—yeah, she probably won't. ever. considering she called you her little brother."

"oh, fuck off, gumi. that was when we were five."

"just pointing down the obvious."

"i knew i should have told nobara about the situation. she would have given much better advice."

"kugisaki would have laughed at you so hard, she would have cried." megumi got up, probably to get some more chips. as he left, he quipped over his shoulder, "you're catching feelings for someone who doesn't have that kind of interest in you, itadori. you will end up looking like an idiot at the end. and possibly dead."

well, maybe megumi fushiguro had a point. but that point was so goddamn hard to see with your thighs pressed on either sides of his face.

🧸lesson 04: maybe making girls cry is okay sometimes

"mhm- ngh oh my god. yuu." yuuji placed his tongue flat against your pulsating clit. you bucked into his face, pressing his mouth messily to your hot core as you showered him in breathless praises.

nobody was home. kuna was probably gonna be home later at night and so, you both had decided his room as the venue for your next 'lesson'.

you weren't even sure which numbered orgasm it was at this point. and you weren't sure if you even existed anymore outside of yuuji and his face and his tongue and yuuji.

red, hot need ran it's course through your body as the jock manhandled you. his calloused palms pulled your jerking hips downwards to steady them and then, pulled you hastily towards himself. yur jaw fell open, going slack at the torturous stimulation yuuji had the audacity to hum in approval when you momentarily went slack under him.

"yuuji, yuuji. yuu. pl-please please- stop. st-" tears pricked at your eyes as you called out his name in a futile attempt to get him to stop. your hands bunched at his sweaty locks, pushing and pulling to get his wicked tongue on your sensitive cunt to ease up.

but the jock was unforgiving.

his tongue dipped within you, your muscles contracting and spasming against his pretty face as his nose dug deeper against your clit. his tongue was fast, delving in and out of you methodically as you bucked and keened under his touches. the salty tears fell down your cheeks.

"yuu—" you mumbled in a weak voice and he finally looked up so as to assess the damage.

"hm?" his mouth finally parted from yours, messy and sticky.

and when yuuji looked up at you, he was sure this is the last sight he would see before he was condemned to hell for the rest of eternity. your eyes were watery, lips swollen and quivering. you could barely keep your vision straight before you clenched your eyes shut and tried to pry him off of yourself.

so fucking pretty that it made him ache. and that only pushed him to kiss inner thigh and lick a soft stripe up your gushing cunt, getting back to what he was previously doing.

"fuck fuck fuc— yuu, no. no more. p-plea— fuck." you stomach was full of something hot and molten, something jittery and unstable. something that sounded and tasted a lot like yuuji itadori.

the quarterback stayed on his knees, bringing his forefinger and thumb to pinch and rub your wet clit as your thighs shook, your eyes rolled backwards and your back arched. he grinned — a feral sight — as you finally came undone on his tongue again.

he finally pulled himself upwards, using his discarded tshirt to clean off his face. as he stood before you, all he could do was watch you awestruck.

you were heavenly.

your spent figure was slumped on his bed; t-shirt pushed up to expose your bruised tits and your legs pressed together as you tried to come back on mother earth. your eyes were still closed, cheeks wet from tears and yuuji had to stop himself from begging you to let him fuck you tonight.

but he abstained. of course not. that was insane. you would never let him go that far, would you? so, instead he chose to lie down next to you and pull you into his chest.

you nudged your cheek against his pecs, finding refuge in his warmth and he gladly let you, allowing a small smile on his face. his fingers came up to push back strands of hair from your sweaty forehead and then wipe away the salty tears that had made home against the plane of you cheeks. once he was sure you had caught your breath, he pressed a sweet kiss to your skin. finally, he mumbled, "sorry, did i go too far?"

you shook your head no, curling further into him with ease. and he let you. he shifted his position so as to allow your skin on his, so as to press his nose to your hair and smell that strawberry shampoo, so as to almost pretend for a second that you were his.

but you didn't let the show run for long. a few minutes later, as you felt the energy returning to your body, you attempted to get up.

the jock's eyebrows furrowed, he sat up with you, "something wrong? do you want something? water or—"

"—no, no." you turned to give him a weak smile, "i think i'm just gonna go shower before kuna is home and he finds me like this."

oh. ofcourse. how could he forget the ever-looming threat that was sukuna?

"can you walk?" he asked earnestly, offering you his tshirt so you could put it on, "i can walk you to the shower, if you want."

"i'll be okay, yuu." you poked your head through his shirt, trying to stand up. but your legs immediately wobbled and you lost balance, "—fuck. okay. i guess not."

yuuji offered you a smile, picking you up bridal style as you squealed at his action. a blush crept up your neck and face, "what are you doing?!"

"what? i think i should be responsible for the mess i create, shouldn't i?" he gave you a cheeky smile, the kind where the cut under his eye came alive and he grinned ear to ear. a boyish grin, perhaps. and you were fortunate enough to be on the recipient end of it.

you weren't sure what it was that you felt for yuuji, or what you didn't. all you knew that right now — as he carried you out of his room clad in a t-shirt that smelt like him — it was as if he was aware of the sudden jump your heart and wanted nothing more than to be the cause of your untimely death.

"you don't have to do this." you mumbled.

what did 'this' refer to, exactly? you weren't quite sure. was it the fact that he had entertained your drunken idea for such a long amount of time? or was if the fact that in the moments even when you weren't offering him something physical, he still looked at you as if you hung up stars in the night sky for him? maybe it was as simple as the fact that he was carrying you to run you a bath.

he stayed quiet and you repeated yourself louder, "really, yuuji, you don't have to."

"i want to." and that was all he said.

you felt his biceps tense under you as he shifted your weight on one arm and attempted to open the door with the other. he gave you a reassuring smile, and you nudged your face against his chest to hide your embarrassment at his simple answer.

once he finally was through, he walked into the lliving room, attempting to make his way to the bathroom down the hallway whe—

"YUUJI?!" a voice boomed from the door and both of you whipped your head to look at the man that stood there.

ever heard of divine intervention? yeah, this was whatever the fuck is the opposite to that. satanic intervention. cursed intervention, perhaps.

"ON—ONICHAN?!"

"CHOSO?!" you scrambled off of yuuji, hitting the ground with a muffled thud.

choso immediately looked away from his half-naked brother and the girl in his brother's t-shirt*.

(*yeah, okay, just try to understand the family dynamics for a second. choso [24] is the oldest and he has graduated uni and has a job now. sukuna and (yn) [21] are in their third year, and yuuji [20] is in his second. choso knows who (yn) is since you and kuna are childhood besties or whatever. so... yeah okay, back to the shitshow 👍🏻)

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" choso asked loudly, his eyes still averted from you both so as to not accidentally see your exposed form.

"WHY ARE YOU HERE?!" yuuji retorted as you hid behind his broad figure instinctively, trying to recover whatever ounce of modesty you had.

"I OBVIOUSLY HAD THE KEY TO MY OWN HOME?!"

"WELL, DON'T WALK IN UNANNOUNCED? DO YOU HAVE NO MANNERS?"

"yuuji."

"IM SORRY 'NICHAN!!"

and that is how choso found out about your little arrangement. and that is how you both decided to never have another rendezvous session at the itadori's.

🧸lesson 05: you got this, itadori!

"what the fuck?" megumi asked slowly, eyeing yuuji as the jock shoved some french fries down his mouth.

"YEAH, WHAT THE FUCK?!" nobara repeated, louder. to which, megumi gave her a side-eye, "we're in public, kugisaki."

yuuji took his time, sipping his coke before shrugging, "yeah, so, 'nichan found out."

nobara shook her head, "no. no. turn around 360—"

"—180. 360 makes a circle."

"die, megs. anyways, turn around and tell me that part of the story where you started—" the red-head shuddered, "—doing stuff with senpai. why?! how?! why?! how??"

yuuji took a bite from his burger before saying, "well, she offered."

"fuck that all. it's old news."

"for you. cause, apparently, i was left out of the loop—"

"—much sad. anyways, is choso okay with you and her? or is he gonna snitch you out to sukuna?"

"i mean, no. i don't think so, no." yuuji tried to steal a fry off of nobara's plate and she smacked his hand off, "ow kugisaki! whatever. he gave me a long lecture about how i should actually pursue her and officially ask her out if we wanna keep doing this. after that, for whatever unrelated reason, he cried about how quickly we grew up."

"virgin behavior." nobara stuck out a tongue, quickly reeling out of her disbelief over the fact that yuuji was getting some, "i mean, that's old-fashioned. you don't have to date her, you know?"

"but your brother's not wrong, is he?" megumi offered. "don't keep doing this just cause you want a way to get your dick wet."

"megs, it's not 1920. they are consensual adults and they can just fool around if they're on the same page."

"yeah but about that—" yuuji tried to sneak in a fry from megumi's plate now, "—i think i'm in love with her. and i am pretty sure the feelings are one-sided."

"huH?!"

"what?" the jock looked at the two dumbfounded, "i like her. she's pretty and smart and i think— i like her."

he didn't think he liked you. he knew that he was whole-heartedly, as stupidly as humanly possible, in love with you.

but he didn't bother mentioning the fact.

he didn't bother mentioning a plethora of things, in fact. first, that his heart had been offered to you at the ripe age of four when he first realized that sunlight got caught against your hair strands somewhat magically, and when you smiled, he smiled; and that when he cried, you kissed his imaginary wounds better even when sukuna made fun of him.

he didn't bother mentioning that when he asked you to marry him, there was only such a small part of him that was 'joking', the larger chunk of him would have exchanged his soul for some sort of forbidden alchemy to be with you.

he didn't bother mentioning that when he was thirteen, a slew of girls had asked to be his girlfriend, and he had turned down each one of them to sneak in his first kiss with you.

but all those years of pining just turned into a small ball of anxiety, ever-growing in his stomach. he knew you didn't feel the same. so, he didn't bother saying any of that. because, well, frankly, his situation seems just a tiny-teensy bit pathetic.

"i guess i just like her... just a bit." he repeated, more to himself than others.

"we heard the first time. and the second."

"DUDE" nobara's eyes widened, "she's sukuna's best friend."

"hey, what happened to the fact that we are consensual adults fooling around?"

"oh no, fuck that. i was humoring you." nobara shook her head, "sukuna's gonna murder you."

"yeah, i know." yuuji sighed, his playfulness replaced by something more mature, "i am not gonna ask her out. i think i'm gonna call this— whatever this is— off. i don't want her to lose her friendship with 'kuna, and she... well, she probably doesn't like me anyways."

megumi and nobara exchanged a sorry expression among themselves before looking back to yuuji. but the jock put on a smile, "ah it's fine, it was fun while it lasted." he leaned back in his seat, "wanna catch a movie after this? human earthworm is out."

so the quarterback had gone back home that day with a certain resolve. he would call this off.

he put on his lucky red sweatshirt, put on the cologne you had complimented once when he had gone for one of his lessons, and he put on his best fake smile. as he passed by sukuna in the living room, he guiltily looked away from him and walked out of the door as soon as possible.

"where ya going?" the tatted man asked, not looking up from his phone.

"nowhe—" he sighed, running a hand through his hair before he bent downwards to put on his shoes, "with gumi and nobara. we're going to the arcade."

"you've been hanging out with the fushiguro kid quite a lot nowadays. a lot of sleepovers."

yuuji's fingers halted, slowly fidgeting with the shoelaces before he threw sukuna a casual look, "he's my friend. and his dad is out of town so i go over. got an issue?"

"nah, do whatever." kuna met his eyes but then went back to his phone without saying much. a beat later, he continued, "well, let me know if you'd be home in time for dinner."

yuuji stood up, dusting off his clothes, "you're cooking today?"

"yeah, thought i'd invite her over. she likes that pasta i make."

at the mention of you, yuuji looked over sukuna once. a sharp sting suddenly erupted in his chest like someone had hit him. hard. and, so, without saying anything more, the younger itadori immediately left through the main door.

things must end.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

his fingers skimmed over the ringing bell in front of your apartment as his feet nervously shuffled around at the door. he knew you were on the other side, waiting for him. as the door swung open, he was face to face with your housemate.

"hey?" maki raised an eyebrow, a smug smile on her lips. she was dressed as if she was leaving to go somewhere, "she's in her room."

yuuji simply pursed his lips, nodded and moved past his senior. before walking into your room, he stalled in front of the door, threw his head back to catch maki about to leave, "kugisaki says hi, by the way."

and if yuuji didn't know any better, he would have assumed the glare maki gave was one well-intended to kill him.

he wasn't sure if the room was chilly or if the reason for goosebumps was something else, but nonetheless, he shut the door behind him and stepped into the room. as he came in view with the bed, he found you casually on your back, scrolling your phone.

"yuuji!" you smiled as you sat up, a familiar warmth spreading over your face at his presence. but he merely nodded, his lips drawn into a thin line.

"um," you fidgeted, standing up hastily and laughing to ease the awkwardness, "so, uh— did maki let you in?"

"yeah, she did."

"oh, well, she's going out, so we don't need to worry about her." you paused for a second before your expression fell and you tried again, "hey?"

but a same monotone expression fell across his face, "hey."

"um... is something wrong? in a bad mood or something?"

"not quite." yuuji rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the cold, wooden floors, "i wanted to talk. to you, i mean."

you nodded, although he didn't look up at you to register your expression. he continued softly, "we should stop this."

"what?"

"i—" he looked up at you, quickly sneaking in a steadying breath, "i wanted to thank you for the 'lessons'. it's been fun and i learnt so much, really. but you don't have to do it anymo—"

"why?" you interrupted, "did someone find out?"

"what? no."

"then?" you stepped towards him, your unyielding gaze trained on his face, "do you not... want to do it with me anymore?"

"no, ofcourse not." his eyes widened and he stepped forward in a desperate attempt to comfort you. his palms found purchase against your cheek, "no. that's not what i meant."

"what do you mean then?" you looked up at him, confused.

"i-" he looked at you softly, "i really can't ruin your friendship with sukuna anymore. we need to stop. it has gone for... for way too long, now, hasn't it?"

"—it's just been a few months."

"come on. we both know we need to stop." he confessed, and as his words left you hollow, so did his touch. he pulled away from you and stepped back a teensy bit to allow you some space. "it will be for the best."

you looked at him for a beat. and then one more. finally, "kiss me."

and the jock obliged without any hesitation. his lips were familiar against yours, his hands on your cheek, and his body weight pressing onto you and pushing you backwards into the bed.

the back of your knees hit the wooden frame and you stumbled backwards, falling onto the bed with a muffled thud. but yuuji didn't bother following you and caging you underneath him. instead, he stood at the edge, waiting.

"yuu?" you asked softly.

"are you sure about this?"

and you weren't sure if he was asking that question to you or himself. you weren't sure if his fingers were shaking from the betrayal or the need to hold you against him. but you nodded your head anyways, "yeah. if this is it. if this is the last time then indulge in my stupid ideas one last time." you paused, "please?"

he nodded before swiftly throwing off his hoodie off of his torso an onto the floor. bruises from a few days before laid tattered across his tan skin and his biceps flexed and moved as he slowly caged you under him.

"fuck," he breathed in slowly, taking in your low-lidded gaze, "you're so fuckin' pretty."

your fingers found solace in his pinkish locks and you pulled him closer — till your skin smelt like his perfume and his stuttered breath hit your lips, "yuuji."

"hm?" his eyes ran over your face, and the adoration in his eyes made you feel like he would set the world aflame if you so as even asked him to.

"fuck me."

his pupils widened, cheeks flushed and a breathless gasp got stuck in his throat. at his reaction, you pulled him downwards, kissing him softly before the tendrils of passing seemed to nip down on both of you. soon after, you were nothing more than messy kisses, clashing teeth and wrong decisions.

"fuuck— ha-harder." he moaned as your fingernails sunk into his scalp, pulling him harder against yourself.

your hands travelled downwards to his chest and you pushed him away only to turn him around and straddle his hips. your pelvis rolled over his, the delicious friction driving you delirious as you peered down at the man under you — kiss-bitten lips, tousled hair, flushed cheeks.

yuuji itadori looked at you as if you were his god.

and you played along. rolling your hips, tracing a finger from his jaw down to his pecs as your lips traced the path with soft kisses soon after.

his hips stuttered, trying to meet your shallow teases before he mumbled out a soft, "take off your clothes."

you smiled, putting on a show for him as you slipped out of your tshirt. leaving yourself exposed to his preying eyes, you slowly took off the bra.

"shit, look at you." he raised himself on his elbows, coming upwards to softly kiss your warm skin before slowly licking over your nipple as another hand fondled the other. your head was thrown back at the feeling of his warm mouth on you while his fingers softly tugged at the other.

soon after that, you found yourself rocking yourself on his long fingers as he sunk his teeth in your neck, getting off on the pretty sounds you made as you rut against him almost as desperately as he was. when he caught you sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, trying to stay quiet, he pulled your face towards his and kissed you senseless. when he pulled away, his hot breath fanned over your lips, "don't. let me hear, please."

and so senseless moans tumbled down your lips as you you came, still rutting against his hand.

when your breath stilled and you finally met his gaze, all you could was breath out an airy, "fuck me, please."

flushed face, hazy eyes, your mouth parted so prettily at the end of the sentence. who was itadori yuuji to deny you of anything?

"say that again."

🧸lesson 06: fuck it up, itadori!

"n-no protection? are you... sure?"

god, he was adorable.

you held back a laugh as you re-assured him a millionth time, "i'm on birth control, so, no. trust me."

"hm. hm." his breath was caught in his throat as if it were a jagged rock. your hands on his torso felt warm — too warm — as if they would char him and you blinked up at him so prettily as you laid atop those pillows.

"i- one second. i-" his voice was thick, hands slightly shaking as he tried to guide his erection into your slick cunt.

"yuu," you cooed and he looked at you in part hope, part confusion. a laugh escaped you at his expression, "you look like a kicked puppy."

"so-sorry, imjustnervous—" he mumbled, his eyes avoiding yours.

"yuu," you repeated, "this is your first time, right?"

he nodded so softly that it was entirely too easy to miss it. you held back an amused grin, "let me help, okay?"

shockwaves ran through his body as your soft hand slowly took ahold of his dick and ran the tip over your clit, gathering your wetness on the mushroom tip. you both held back a choked sigh as your hand continued the same up and down, up and down, up and down motion till you felt as if yuuji was going to cry just from the teasing.

"h-hey—"

"sorry, sorry. no more teasin', i promise." you replied cheekily, fingers finally guiding him to your sloppy hole. and as the tip finally pushed past the first ring of feeble resistance, a shuddering gasp left the man above you.

pushing in inch by inch, you gasped at the sinful stretch of him filling you. your walls spasmed slightly against him, hugging him so sinfully tight that he wondered if he would pass out just right now. but he couldn't. so he commanded himself to keep moving forward till he was all but buried within you.

"s-shit." his breath was heavy against the dip of your neck and you ran a soft hand through his hair, "you okay, yuu?"

"ye-yeah." he shook his head slowly, descending down on you to sink his teeth into your skin again as he started moving slowly.

"jus like that— yeah."

at first his thrusts were slow and shallow, as if he was just testing the waters. but as you found you keening into his touches and moaning as his tip rubbed against a certain spot, he grew sure of his actions.

his thrusts were now harder, a bit more precise and his tempo increased as you dug your heels on his back and tugged on his hair to keep him going.

"jesus" you gasped, back arching off slowly as his lower abs caught friction against your clit and his dick started ramming into your with a periodic rhythm. "fu-fuck is it your fuckin first time? for fucks sake, yuuji ngh—"

his breath was laboured, a thin layer of sweat adorning his forehead and nose, "im a quick learner, fuck— you're shi-shit, you're so fucking perfect."

lifting himself up slightly, his hand snaked in between your bodies and he found himself thumbing at your clit with ease.

"yuuji—" your voice pitched up as his circles grew in pressure. already overstimulated from his administrations on your poor cunt, you felt the pressure building inch by inch till it grabbed ahold of your body and shook you to your very core.

under him, you grabbed hastily at the sheets, at the pillow, at his hair, at anything to keep yourself on this plane of consciousness as he kept drawing messy figures on your clit and fucked into your cervix with reckless abandon.

and that unsteady, familiar feeling grew and grew and grew till it turned your body to jello and burst inwards, "f-fuck shit, ohmygod im cummin im cummin im cumm— FUCK YUUJI—"

his fingers pressed hastily against your lips but the cockiness in his voice practically dripped off of him and onto you, "shh, someone might hear, pretty."

his thrusts grew erratic, nudging him more and more towards a certain, familiar kind of high. his face found solace against your shuddering body as he cursed and spilled inside you.

"fuck." he cursed one last time as he breathed you in, just laying atop you having spent himself.

he slowly pulled himself upwards, pressing a chaste kiss to your nose, and you gave him a spent smile, the kind that had quickly became his favorite. he slowly pulled himself out, and caught the milky white gushing out of your cunt.

and with that, itadori yuuji lost all sanity.

next you knew, your face was being pressed into the mattress, your cunt being ravaged by his unforgiving dick ramming in and out easily.

"fuc-fuck, sogood so fuckin' good—"

his chest was against your back, his weight pressing down on your so deliciously and trapping you under him. you pressed your face harder into the mattress, screaming out muffled renditions of his name as he softly pinched your clit.

"i'm sorry, baby, im so fuckin' sorry" but he sounded anything but sorry as he whispered hotly in your ear, both his fingers and his dick doing everything in their power to turn you into nothing more than a woman maddened with his touch.

your fingers sunk into the sheets underneath, your death-grip growing even more deadlier as he fucked into you as a man depraved.

"this 'sthe last time," his words slurred as he left sloppy kisses down your neck, "promise, i promise."

but those promises were nothing more than candied words on his pretty lips, because now he had you on top of him, your back against his chest, his heels digging into your mattress dangerously as he fucked up into you.

"yuu— yuuJI pleaseplease ple— fucking fuc—" your voice grew in pitch, unresolved tears falling down your face as his hands fondled your tits, tugging and tweaking the nipples to his liking, and your own familiar fingers toyed with your clit.

how could he go on for so fucking long? jesus fucking christ.

"i play varsi- fuck varsity," he answered softly, "this is nothin' for me."

he pressed a soft kiss to your neck as his cock split you apart for the nth time and you fell apart on top of the man who claimed to love you more than he loved life and reason itself.

"don't." his voice grew desperate, a hand coming to hold yours over your overstimulated, abused clit, "i didn- say you could stop, did i? keep going. please. one more. fuck. please."

"yuuji stop—"

"—give me one more, please."

"pleasepleaseplease—" you sobbed, your body arching off of him as he brought you to another one orgasm. you eyes rolled back into your skull, a bit of drool dangerously on your bottom lip, and your body went slack so as to let him do as he pleased.

your cunt gushed on his dick, spraying you both in your juices he thrusted into one last time, spilling into your overfilled pussy all over again with a breathless string of pants and moans.

the quarterback collapsed backwards onto your bed with you on top of him. he reluctantly pushed the weight of your sweaty body off of him, and instinctively pressed another kiss to your head.

his hand came up to push back the sweaty hair strands that stuck to you like second skin, and to thumb at the furious blush on your cheeks. your eyes fluttered upwards at him, you barely managing a smile, "thankyou."

"for what?" he turned to his side, taking every feature of you in with a small smile. a beat passed him by in the serene room before he found his heart weighing heavily and lodging itself between his lungs.

"you're so pretty" he found himself mumbling, "i wish i- i wish i could..." but he caught himself before he could make a fool of himself and confess to a passed out girl. he bit the inside of his cheek. maybe it was better if he just left wordlessly. "nothing."

you were asleep. he knew that. but then why did you snuggle closer and whispered a soft, "i love you."

"—huH?!" any and all sanity left the jock at this point. his eyes as wide as saucers as he stared down your softly snoring form, "what did you just say?"

but you said nothing, still softly snoring in your goddamn sleep and yuuji felt like he was going insane. did you say it??? did he imagine it??? is this a punishment from the devil (sukuna) itself??? what was real anymore? was he real???

and hey what does a panicked twenty year old does when faced with the possible conundrum of his crush of fifteen years having feelings for him?? he runs.

yuuji itadori never had put on his clothes faster than he did right this moment. hastily putting one leg into the sweats and then another, he dashed to make his way to the door. before stepping out, he looked back at you one last time.

fuck itadori, are you dumb?! she doesn't love you like that. it's the post-sex hormones. his consciousness begged in the voice of megumi fushiguro, which was a bit concerning cause was the voice of reason in his head megumi fushiguro?!

but that was not the issue at hand right now. his voice of reason could be questioned another time. right now? running. yes, that was the plan.

the lock softly clicked and he stepped out into the living room before closing the door ever so slowly behind him.

"done fucking?"

and yuuji's blood ran cold.

he whipped around to peer at a certain, tatted delinquent who was sat on the couch in the living room, "brother?"

"brother? huh?" sukuna laughed, the sound so chilling that yuuji felt his blood freeze ad turn into cement, "bringing out the formalities?"

yuuji's tongue got stuck in his throat and sukuna stood up slowly, holding up his hands in mock surrender, "she wouldn't pick up my calls, and i had a spare key. sorry if i'm fuckin imposing."

"'kuna," yuuji's voice was quiet, "it's not what he looks like."

"hm, it is not?" he flashed the younger itadori an amused smile, "ofcourse it is not. what do you think i think you both did?"

"fu-fucked?" the jock swallowed hard.

"bingo."

"i didn't." yuuji didn't know if he was begging for forgiveness, and if yes, then what for? for betraying sukuna's trust or for feeling satisfied that his brother knew of his conquests?

"you didn't? from what i heard, she seemed a little too happy in there." and now sukuna stood mere inches apart, his hand balled into a neat fist.

"kun—" but yuuji's right cheek bore the fate of getting punched by sukuna.

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? MY BEST FUCKING FRIEND, YUUJI?"

the jock nursed his cheek, still reeling from the attack. but a certain flame came alive. he wasn't a fucking child. "YEAH, YOUR FUCKING BEST FRIEND."

sukuna looked at him in disbelief, "how fucking could you? she meaNS SHIT TO ME, YOU FUCKFACE."

"—SO DOES SHE TO ME."

the man stepped insanely closer, grabbing ahold of yuuji's hoodie's collar, "THEN WHY THE FUCK WERE YOU RUNNING AWAY FROM HER RIGHT NOW? HUH?"

the two boys heaved heavily, anger boiling hot through their veins. finally yuuji spat up, "she told me she loved me."

sukuna's grasp loosened, "what?"

"she fucking told me she loved me."

"and you're running?" sukuna looked at his brother with a strange look. disappointment, perhaps?

"i- it's a mistake. she doesn't." yuuji looked downwards, trying not to show his pain in his soft words, "and... i didn't want to fucking hurt you, asshole."

"so you're a coward?" the tatted man scoffed.

and yuuji pushed his brother back, "fuck you."

"no." sukuna's gaze hardened, "you fuck off, you stupid fucking dipshit. she told you she loves you, and you ran?"

"for fucks sake, sukuna" yuuji breathed in slowly, "i thought you'd be elated she probably doesn't."

"you fucked around with her for god knows how long, pretending i didn't know." sukuna stepped back, his words quieter.

"you knew?"

"i'm not dumb, of course i fucking knew." he paused, "and 'nichan told me."

"jesus fucking christ, 'nichan." yuuji looked down at the floors, "what now?"

"grow a pair, and actually ask her out."

"what?" the jock looked up, confused, "you- wait, you are saying i should ask her out?"

sukuna shrugged, "you've compromised her. you must follow through with the consequences."

"did you watch too much bridgerton? what the fuck is compromised??"

"i did, 'nichan made me watch it. pleasantly surprising, actually." and yuuji was immediately mentally slapped with the image of sukuna enjoying bridgerton.

"huh?" yuuji softly shook his head, "so... what? i like have your blessing or whatever to ask her out?"

the delinquent made a face of disgust, "i'm not a priest, what the fuck do you mean by blessing? yeah, just fucking ask her out."

"and what if she says no?"

"then i will remind you of your failure everyday in life."

yuuji looked at his brother awestruck, "thanks, kuna."

"don't. when you come back home, im gonna beat you to a pulp for fucking my best friend."

"i deserve it."

"fuck yeah, you do." the older itadori made his way to the main entrance, "go fix shit."

and as sukuna left through the door, itadori yuuji slipped back into your room, crawled back into bed with you, and held you close to his chest. softly, as a giddy smile overtook his features, he mumbled, "i love you too."

next morning you woke up next to a fully-clothed yuuji with a swollen right cheek.

"yuu?! why are you dressed?! and what the fuck happened to your cheek?!"

"i fell off your bed."

"what the actual fuck?!"

a/n: IM GENUINELY SO SORRY IF THIS SUCKS ASS, I GOT TOO MUCH INTO CHARACTER WRITING HELPPP!! i really hope it was atleast a fun read, and as i said it took me 4 days just to make it a bit coherent since i'm writing after so long. please forgive me and enjoy the meal. [sorry for any typos and such babes] tagging: @9rvm @jellibean2018 @peekawoocc @kingofthe-egirls @hugmevz [thankyou sm for sending in the request, i was already writing it here so i tagged you <3] misc.: divider by @plutism and header format by @si-eunnis plagiarism not authorized bitch.

[pshcomforts]

➳ bad habit | psh.

nonidol!sunghoon x fem!reader

“i wish i knew you wanted me”

synopsis: sunghoon never realized you loved him in high school until you confessed it on a drunken, celebratory day.

warnings/content: written in third pov. mentions of alcohol. aged up — hoon’s 23 and reader’s 22. oblivious sunghoon. kind of idiots in love. cursing. not proofread.

genre: angst with little fluff

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 2.6k

a/n: fictional characters — dae (jungwon’s boyfriend), min-su (heeseung’s girlfriend), and ji-woo (jake’s girlfriend).

so excited to join @okwonyo’s celestial ballet event! hope this goes well with the song as you play it <3

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: bad habit by steve lacy

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

1:08 ────────|─────────── -2:43

after years in college, sunghoon found himself achieving a goal he’d never thought would come true — in which was landing his dream job abroad, allowing for his group of friends to celebrate with one last drinking night.

the air was filled with drunken laughs as everyone reminisced about the past, talking about high school and college memories, and the stupid stories that came from it.

y/n giggled next to dae, cheeks tinting a soft pink on her face as she mindlessly smiled, thankful for the non mentions of her crush on hoon back then.

but he caught glimpses of her grins, pressing his lips into a firm line to bite back whatever he could. his heart would still ring and call for her, making him unable to comprehend whatever jake was murmuring next to him.

“right hoon??”

“hm? oh yeah.. yeah, whatever.”

jake huffed out a laugh as he watched his friend keep his gaze on the girl in front of him.

“aye, sunghoon?” the aussie boy tried to snap, but hoon’s focus stayed completely on y/n as she unsteadily walked out.

he was quick to follow behind, ignoring the asked whereabouts from the others as dae peeked at ji-woo and min-su.

“should we..?” jungwon’s partner hesitantly questioned, trailing his voice off so the two could get the hint, but ji-woo only shook her head.

“no, let them talk.”

and so they did, leaving sunghoon to trail after y/n who decided to sit outside for fresh air.

the boy found her crouched down in a quiet area, much different than the rowdy atmosphere from before.

he gave a soft sigh, heart pounding in his ears as he took a seat next to her.

“hey,” his voice murmured. “you doing okay?”

he laid his eyes on y/n who still had bright cheeks from the alcohol consumed. she deemed a soft smile as her eyes closed. “me? of course i’m okay!” she shouted, hiccuping afterward.

sunghoon scoffed out a quiet laugh in return, hiding away his smile as he let his shoulders bump against hers again. the little touch was almost nothing, but it still sparked his heart that was mindlessly filled with her.

“you didn’t drink a lot, did you?”

“no…, you know i can’t handle alcohol very well.”

unknowingly, his lips curled as he remembered the other times they’d drink together in college.

“yeah.., i know.”

he felt his body warm up from the memories that flooded in, melting his heart in ways y/n couldn’t imagine.

“we had some good times in college, didn’t we?” she uttered, recalling back to the best memories she could find in her buzzed state. “i’m sure gonna miss you.”

sunghoon chortled out a laugh at her words. “i’ll miss you too, but i’ll still visit, you know?”

y/n felt her heart slightly shatter at the mere thought of not seeing her friend as much anymore. “yeah, but it won’t be the same, hoon. why do you think everyone was talking about our high school and college days?” she smiled, remembering the continuous group of friends kept along the years.

he sighed as he tilted his head up, glancing at each star that decorated the night sky. “high school was really something, wasn’t it?” he mumbled, softly freezing when the girl laid her head on his shoulder.

“yeah.., it really was.” he heard her muffle, allowing him to plaster on a wide grin.

“do you ever miss it? or wish you could go back?” sunghoon’s eyes twinkled as he continued to stare at the sky, thinking back to all of the good times he had.

“i’m not sure if i would honestly…,” y/n chuckled, causing him to hear it. he questioned what it was about, turning his head to find that she was still restlessly laying on his shoulder — so he glanced up at the stars again as he let her giggle.

“hoon..,” she hiccuped after a while.

“hm?”

“i was in love with you in high school.”

sunghoon’s heart immediately stopped beating when her words processed. he felt his body tense up and his throat suddenly ran dry once he blinked his eyes.

“w..what?” he stuttered, feeling like his heart was gonna burst. the male quickly pulled away, causing y/n to pick her head up as she beamed a half smile.

“yeah.. i was so in love with you in high school, i’m surprised you didn’t notice from our friends.”

he peered his gaze into hers as everything he felt almost went numb hearing the sudden news. his breaths got heavy, and his chest was heaving up and down from the realization.

from the lingering stares to the quiet shared touches they had in high school, the girls heart was close to exploding from each small interaction that never came to sunghoon’s attention.

from the way she tried to get close with him, asking him about his hobbies or interests to the way she also kept a distance to not be too much of a bother.

the high school girl was hopelessly in love with her friend who was oblivious.

his hand quickly ran to his chest, clenching onto the pained feeling as he remembered the constant ships with him and y/n from their friends. however, they always ended up being mindlessly excused by him. he deemed it to be uncomfortable for them both so he always pushed it away for her benefit.

going from that sign to another was when she always made sure to show up to his ice skating competitions with flowers and loud cheers, even when no one else could show. then they’d go out for ice cream and highlight the best of his performances.

✩ ‘i wish i knew’ ✩

or when he’d fall asleep during lunch and would suddenly wake up to a packaged sandwich and coffee milk on his desk with a little sticky note that’d say — ‘eat something, dummy y/n~ :)’ — causing an unaware smile to grace his drool covered face.

or even when the two would have to go to a study session together alone (totally not planned purposely by their friends), and they’d be out late together in tiring nights that’d be filled with quiet arguments and loud laughs. then hoon would knock out first and then the girl would too right after, letting them doze off while facing each other.

✩ ‘i wish i knew you wanted me’ ✩

none of those signs made sunghoon fall for her until after high school and in college.

when the academics began to get rough for him, he’d always think about just how much y/n was able to cheer him up in high school.

her constant nose crinkles and bright smiles were a heart throbbing realization that he loved his friend who was able to light his day.

ever since he realized it, he was always the one to make effort into having a full day that revolved around her, even if they had different schedules. it caused them to have constant drinking days and continuous study sessions that could be shared upon just those two.

but from what he didn’t know was that as soon as he figured out his feelings, y/n began to realize that he wouldn’t go for a girl like her. she was hit with the reality that even with her efforts in high school, he’d never turn to someone he just considered a friend.

so she forced herself to see him as a friend only, to see him as the way she thought he saw her. and though it hurt, it worked in some ways when she began to feel a warm fuzzy feeling she’s always felt towards her close friends.

sunghoon felt like an idiot. he was an idiot.

the signs were so obvious and yet young, high school hoon was too caught up in other things to realize it.

✩ ‘made a move, coulda made a move’ ✩

‘idiot’ — he mentally cursed to himself, heart breaking as y/n only laughed.

“it’s funny though, because at some point, i noticed how our friends began to give up on us being together. i guess they got tired of me constantly talking about you.” she chuckled to herself, still radiating off her buzzed state as she muttered, “sorry, this must be awkward to hear.”

sunghoon chewed his lips as he turned his gaze to her, finding the girl only staring at the night sky instead of him, though he wished she could just meet eyes with him.

“y/n..,” he weakly called, mouth dry with guilt. “i’m sorry…, i didn’t know you.. loved me in high school.”

✩ ‘if i knew, i’d be with you’ ✩

he watched her face morph into a reassuring grin, still not looking at him as if she couldn’t bear to lock eyes with the boy she used to love.

✩ ‘is it too late to pursue?’ ✩

“don’t be sorry, hoon. you didn’t know, you don’t have to be apologetic.” y/n finally looked back at him, face subtly lighting up in shock when she found him already staring at her.

“i still am…,” hoon defended, causing a hearty laugh to be heard from her, fluttering his heart.

“i’m okay, i swear. we were just kids anyway, what did we know? plus everything worked out for the best because we ended up being really close in college.”

ouch.

she meant her words to be filled with nothing but reassurance, but sunghoon couldn’t help the burning in his heart.

✩ ‘i bite my tongue, it’s a bad habit’ ✩

every part of his body ached with the pulses that were known as a heart break. his nails dug into the palm of his hands, harshly furthering it to distract what was really hurting him.

“right.. we were a good duo in both high school and college.” he murmured, laughing it off.

✩ ‘kinda mad that i didn’t take a stab at it’ ✩

y/n scrunched her brows as she shook her head. “maybe just college, high school was just me in love with you.” she grinned, jokingly ridiculing herself.

and college was him falling in love with her.

the way he always waited for her after her classes even when his class finished an hour early, or the way he always made sure she never drank too much with her lightweight — or even the way how she was now the one to knock out first in study sessions, and it’d let hoon stop studying and just linger his stare around her facial features as she slept.

but that was passed now.

sunghoon lowly chuckled, unable to hide away his feelings at this point as the girl was now the oblivious one.

✩ ‘it’s okay, things happen for’ ✩

“they’re memories i’ll always love to look back on.” y/n beamed, pursing her lips into a thin line as she huffed out a sigh. “i’ll miss you, hoon.”

she turned away, breaking the eye contact that he still longed for as she returned her head back onto his shoulder.

the boy exhaled a sigh as well, breaths lowly unsteady with the constant thought of high school y/n in love with him.

✩ ‘reasons that i think are sure, yeah’ ✩

“if you had a chance to redo high school, would you?” he restated his question from earlier. “like would you do it all if you got the chance? fall in love with me again?” his voice slightly trailed off, scared of what the girl would say.

y/n gave a soft hum as she thought to herself, unaware of what he was intending. “i don’t know if i’d go through the heartbreak again.” she laughed. “it was honestly pretty hard getting over you.”

hoon instantly felt his chest tighten at the admission, clenching his jaw to bite back the pain as he let her continue.

“i guess i would do it all again, but just to experience young love again. the innocence of having a first time crush and all is just so fresh, you know? it’s something you can’t have again after experiencing it.”

the male paused, only hearing his deep breaths as he realized that she was the one he had experienced that with, just as much as she did with him.

fuck, his heart hurt. it burned with a sense of loss, like this was the end for them.

sunghoon found himself unable to form a response as he was overloaded with how much time they could’ve saved if he knew.

“y/n..,” he softly croaked, gulping down his feelings when she interrupted — “but! i’d like to see that you not reciprocating my feelings back was a blessing in disguise.”

“o..oh…,” he cleared his throat. “really?”

“yep! i realized that after we started college because that was when i was able to really connect with you as a friend! made me realize that it was probably better off that we stayed this way instead of me being rejected.”

she laughed about her feelings being easily declined once more as sunghoon bit his lips and stayed quiet. it was a quick notice for her, causing her to softly nudge him.

“don’t dwell on the past and make it too awkward, loser.” y/n teased. “you don’t have to feel too bad for me.”

“i, uh.. just didn’t know… so i’m a little shocked.”

“i’d imagine you to be,” she cackled. “but don’t worry about this, that’s the past, let’s focus on your future! you’re gonna be flying out tomorrow for that job, i’m so proud of you.”

sunghoon smiled, nodding his head in agreement as he was finally brought back to reality.

“seriously so proud of you.. hoonie.” she gently called. “i’ll always cheer for you, okay? no matter where you are, i’ll always be your number one supporter.”

his lips softly curled at her words, eyes slowly blinking as he still felt his heart shatter. “from high school to now, you were always my favorite person to bring for support.” his husk voice murmured to her.

y/n grinned, tears welling in her eyes as she pulled him into a sudden hug. “i’m gonna miss you so much.., what am i gonna do without you?”

sunghoon scoffed out a laugh and sighed, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her in closer. “i’m gonna miss you too but you can live without me just fine, y/n. it’s me who won’t be able to do anything without you.” he replied back with a shaky tone, tears sparking in his eyes as well.

“shut up, you’re gonna make me cry more!” the girl quickly smacked his back, earning a chuckle from him.

they pulled away after savoring the hug a little longer. sunghoon placed a hand on her cheek, wiping away the tears that drowned her face as he murmured, “you can’t replace me while i’m gone, okay?”

“why would i ever replace someone like you?”

y/n wailed out more cries after her words, allowing hoon to pull her in for another hug. he gave reassuring strokes as he laughed from hearing her cries.

“are you teasing me right now??” her shaky voice asked.

“no, no! i’m just happy we’re experiencing this together!”

“liar!”

the girl sent a few smacks toward him, and the bickering went back and forth before they both deemed it enough.

the two went back to staring at the starry night with y/n’s head laying on sunghoon’s shoulder.

✩ ‘i know i’ll be in your heart till the end’ ✩

he loved her too late, and she loved him too early.

he wished he knew, he wished the girl he loved had confessed sooner because it was too late to make a change now.

though her heart still somewhat called for him, he was leaving and she couldn’t do anything about it.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

[weathertheraine]

Pirate AU!! Thank you @stringofturtles for watching OFMD S1 with me and re-igniting my Pirate Emotions so I had the motivation to finish this. The first sketches have been sitting in my files for months so please forgive the fact that they look different skdfjh.

More fleshed out AU details under the cut !! :D

- The kids are a little older than canon - the third years in their early 20s - but the story still starts with the second and third years as an established crew who then pick up the first years and the coaches.

- Daichi as a Captain is of course very much like he is in canon. He works very hard to take care of his crew and takes on a huge responsibility for providing for them (as well as making sure they don’t die in idiotic ways). Suga is First Mate so it’s his job to make sure DAICHI is okay and not worrying himself to death. He also has a good handle on morale/the emotional state of the crew.

- Asahi is the first line of offence when dealing with other ships. He doesn’t like actually hurting people, but he’s good at breaking ranks and barrelling through defences to get hold of whatever Karasuno needs. He was ‘off the team’ and out of commission for a little while after he lost his hand (not seeing combat while he was in recovery, and needing to build up his courage again). Noya played a huge part in helping him back onto his feet, and has been kind of protective ever since.

- Noya’s job is to make sure the ship isn’t boarded, so he very rarely leaves it.

- Ennoshita and Kiyoko work together as navigators and managing the little money the crew has. Ennoshita is the only crew member in the beginning who can kind-of read (Kiyoko can only read a little), and they work a lot with maps and planning out journeys.

- Tanaka is great at intimidating opponents. His eyepatch is totally for show - he thinks it makes him look cooler and scarier. His parrot doesn’t often co-operate with him.

- Narita and Kinoshita take care of maintenance and supplies and making sure there isn’t gunpowder anywhere there shouldn’t be, as well as things like fraying rigging and rotting boards/canons secure and the like. Of course, things like that are everyone’s responsibility, but these two consider is theirs particularly. It’s thankless work but the boat would definitely have burned down by now if not for them.

- Enter the first years!

- Kageyama is a prodigy swordsman with a huge reputation as a lethal pirate, although most people who spread those rumours don’t realise he’s as young as he is. He was marooned by his previous crew for being a controlling Captain (who should never have been captain in the first place, having only his fighting talent as the real reason).

- Hinata recently ran away from home to “become a pirate” without much of an idea what that actually entailed, and ran into Kageyama without knowing his reputation. All he knew was that this guy was incredible fighter, and he demanded that he teach him to fight! He now won’t leave him alone.

- Tsukishima ran away as a very young child in an attempt to find Akiteru, whose sailing ship was attacked and lost at sea. He fell in with pirates along with Yamaguchi (who was picked up after surviving a shipwreck), and the pair ended up sticking together as they bounced from ship to ship, ready to run whenever it seemed like tensions were getting high. They (read: tsukki) are going to need to break this habit, if they’re going to be a real part of this new crew.

- Tsukishima and Yamaguchi can’t sleep if they’re not in the same hammock. Embarrassing. The reason Yamaguchi was so tiny as a little kid is that he didn’t get enough food. Tsukishima still tries to sneak him extra (and gets in trouble with Daichi).

- Tadashi ends up as a sharpshooter, one of the few kids who’s confident using a pistol

- Hinata and Kageyama spar together all the time. It’s GOING to end in a make-out the first time Hinata successfully beats him.

- Neither of them have noticed that Tanaka’s eyepatch switches sides.

- Yachi is picked up when the crew stop in a bar in her town. She’s a better-off girl, about to be talked into an politically advantageous marriage, and desperately wants to get out of her situation. “Running away with pirates” was admittedly pretty drastic, but anything sounds like a good idea when Hinata suggests it so sincerely!!

- Ukai is a washed up older pirate, without a crew. Takeda is a very unlucky literature teacher who just happened to be on a sea voyage. They both ended up taken as hostages by the same (meaner) pirate crew, who were then stolen by the Karasuno kids. Although, it’s kind of unclear at this point whether they’re actually prisoners… They’re being treated very nicely (especially Sensei) and are in danger of getting attached…

[louloulemons-posts]

Curly Kisses

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Summary : The different types of kisses you share with eddie.

Word Count : 2.1k

Warnings : not proofread, kisses, talks of sex, hickies/love bites, eddie gets drunk, kisses whilst intoxicated, pure fluff, idiots in love 🤍

A/N : sorry for the lack of updates i started uni recently and i’m trying to find my footing 🫶🏻

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Pre-Date Kisses :

Before you and Eddie got together you were very friendly with one another, always close, laughing, smiling, lingering hugs, hands brushing.

Along with that there were the cheek kisses, the ones that made Eddies cheeks burn and yours ache with smiles. They were sweet and kind and full of admiration.

“Morning,” Eddie smiled as you climbed into the van, “Hello.” You handed him your drink of steaming green tea. “Thank you,” he said, taking a sip, before handing the cup back.

The drive in the morning was how it always was, quiet, but a comfortable silence. The pair of you not awake enough to hold conversation. The air was cool so your body was a lot closer to Eddies trying to steal his heat.

“You okay there?” he asked.

“Chilly.”

“Hold the wheel,” the boy said.

“What?”

“Hold the wheel.”

He took his hands off and began to shrug his jacket off, sending a wave of panic through your body. Leaning across the boy and holding onto the wheel, you tried to keep the van steady and straight.

He dropped his jacket on your lap, sliding your hands off the wheel and placing his own there. “I hate you, you know,” you spoke, sliding your arms through the sleeves.

“Mhm, tell my jacket that.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him, whilst you sunk further into the smokey smelling material.

Pulling into the parking lot, Eddie ran round the van, opening the door for you.

“M’lady,” he said, offering you his hand, sliding your palm into his you played along, “Thank you kind sir.”

Gareth walked over to you, waving hello, “Morning guys.”

“Hey G, look I gotta run okay. I’ll see you later,” you smiled at the pair, taking off Eddies jacket.

He stopped you, “Keep it for now, don’t want you freezing.”

“Thank you Eds,” you smiled, standing on your tiptoes to press your lips to his cheek.

“I’ll see you guys later.”

“Bye,” Gareth waved.

“B-bye,” Eddie stuttered.

The younger boy laughed, “So when are you asking her out?”

“Shut up!”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Drunk Kisses :

This was also before you were dating, Eddie was hanging out with some friends and they had got … well drunk was putting it lightly.

Steve had called you to come and pick the boy up, you didn’t mind of course, you wanted him home safe and you knew that would happen if you were there.

Upon arrival Eddie almost launched himself at you, “Missed you,” he said, hugging you close. “Missed you too,” you laughed, “Let’s get you home yeah?”

Eddie was rambling on and on about the fun he had ( “would’ve been better if you were there”). The drive to his trailer wasn’t a long one, but Eddie was drunk and had the coordination of a baby giraffe.

His arm was over your shoulder as you basically dragged him through the door. “Where’s Wayne?” he asked, huffing, so his lips pouted. “He’s a work.”

“Oh yeah,” he laughed.

“Silly boy, come on let’s get ready for bed.”

“You’ll stay?”

“If you want, it’s not the first time we’ve had a sleepover.” The grin on his face was beautiful, he soon picked up speed as you were in his room.

“I’m going to get changed, please don’t injure yourself,” you said, half a joke, half pure concern. “Don’t worry babe, I’m all good,” he winked. Rolling your eyes you headed off to get changed.

Returning to Eddies bedroom you found him sat on the edge of his bed, staring as his feet very intensely. “You good?” You questioned, making the boy jump.

“Mhm, I’m fin- wow,” he paused.

“What?”

“You look good in my clothes,” he motioned to your make shift pyjamas, an old and worn band tee of Eddies and some shorts.

“Wear them all the time Eds.”

“I know you just look … pretty.”

“You think?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, pushing up from the bed and making his way to you.

“What are you doing?”

“Something I’ve wanted to do for a long time,” he suddenly sounded more sober.

Placing his large palms on either side of your face, his pressed his mouth to yours, a soft kiss. Brushing of lips. Beautiful warmth. You could feel his smile growing against you.

“Eds,” you whispered, pushing him back, but not letting go fully, “You’re drunk.”

“So?”

“Eddie it’s not good to kiss when you’re drunk. How would you feel if I was drunk?”

His face dropped at that, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you said, brushing a curl out of his face, “Let’s go to bed, we can talk about this in the morning. Sound good?”

“You’re not going to leave are you?”

“I’d never leave you.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

The (Second) First Kiss :

Hearing a groan behind you, you couldn’t hide your laugh. “Morning Sunshine, coffees on the table. Making you some eggs and bacon.”

“You’re an Angel, mind telling me what happened last night.”

“One word : tequila.”

“I’m gonna murder Harrington.”

“Well he told me it was all your idea Pretty Boy, plus I don’t think you’ll be doing anything with that hangover.”

He sat on the couch, cradling a mug of coffee like it was his love and joy. “Did you come and get me?”

“Told you I would.”

“Thank you.”

You slid the food onto the plate, handing it to Eddie, “Eat, I’m going to get dressed and then buy you some gatorade.”

“Then we’ll talk about the kiss?”

His words were muffled with bacon, “What did you say?”

“The kiss. I kissed you. Or did you lie when you said we’d talk about it? If you don’t like me like that I get it.”

You sighed, “Eds it’s not that. You’re my best friend, I’m so scared well ruin it.”

“We won’t, come on it’s us. Plus we’ll never know if we don’t try.”

“Eds-“

“I like you. Do you like me?”

“Yeah.”

“Then there’s our answer.” He put down the plate, standing up go meet your lips.

His hands pulled you closer by the waist, you hands resting at the base of his neck, playing with the curls that lived there.

“We’ll be okay,” he whispered against your mouth. “We’ll be okay,” you repeated, huffing a laugh. “What’s funny?”

“You taste of tequila and bacon.”

The boy groaned, resting his head in your neck, making you smile. “I’ll go get some gatorade, you rest.”

“Thanks Sweetheart,” he said, kissing your head.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Sick Kisses :

“How are you feeling?” You asked, sitting down next to Eddie. He’d called you the night before saying he had come down with something and Wayne was forcing him to stay home.

“Rough,”he said voice hoarse.

“When was the last time you had medicine?”

“Like an hour ago, I can’t have anymore yet.”

You brushed his curls out his face, “I’m sorry you feel sick baby.”

“I feel better now you’re here.” You laughed, “God Munson, even when you’re sick, you’re a sweet talker.”

“Don’t you know it,” he laughed, making himself cough. “Careful,” you spoke, grabbing a glass of water from beside his bed. “Here, take some sips.”

He did, slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re a great nurse.”

“I wish I could make you better,” you said.

“You have. Just by being here.”

“I missed you at school today.”

“I bet, I’m the best.”

Smiling you shook your head, “So cocky,” leaning down to kiss his lips he turned his head. “Hey!” you said.

“We can’t kiss, you’ll get sick.”

“But-“

“Baby no!” he chuckled. You rolled your eyes, groaning, “Fine. I’ll just have to kiss you here,” you pecked his cheek, “And here,”one to his nose, “And here,” a final one to his forehead.

“I’m cured!” he said, grinning, his face flushed. “I knew it’d work. Kisses are the best medicine.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

After-Sex Kisses :

Your breathing slowed, Eddies arm thrown over your waist. His bare chest, against the skin of your back. Your body was sweaty and warm, and felt floaty and beautiful.

“You okay?” he whispered into your hair. You hummed, running your fingers against his arm. “I’m so okay.” You were in a daze like state, you tended to be like this whenever you and Eddie would sleep together.

“Your head a bit fuzzy?”

“Mhm, but it’s good fuzzy,” you reassured him. “Okay baby.” You felt his lips on your shoulder, soft butterfly kisses. This had become a routine.

He clean you up and leave gentle presses at every part of skin he could touch. Even though what you had done before seem a lot more intimate , the kisses made your cheeks burn.

He pressed his mouth on your stomach, thighs, neck, collar bones, arm and all over your face. Your body was tired, your eyes drooping, “Go to sleep baby, I’ve got you.”

You knew he did. You trusted him, letting your mind drift away for the night, feeling the gentle brushes of Eddies lips as you did so.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Embarrassed Kisses :

You laughed, Eddies arms around your middle, as you cooked scrambled eggs for the pair of you. “You, Eddie Munson, are a little goblin.”

“So I’ve been told,” he smiled, kissing the side of your head.

“Go wash up, food will be ready soon.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Weird.”

“Oh right, I’m Sir.”

“In your dreams.”

“You know it babe,” he winked, walking to the bathroom.

You stood in front of the stove, Eddies shirt and your shorts on, your skin was on show - the bruised skin. Because apparently Eddie become a vampire when you have sex.

You didn’t mind it, it just meant a lot of makeup or turtlenecks. Humming to yourself as you plated up the eggs and toast, you didn’t hear the door open.

“Morning,” a gruff voice spoke, making you jump slightly. You turned to see Wayne, taking off his shoes, “Uh hi Wayne,” you said, waving a wooden spoon in hand.

“How’s things?” he asked.

“Good.”

“Good,” he looked up from his laces, eyes widening slightly, unable to miss the large love bites littered over your neck and thighs.

“I uh … I made eggs, I was just about to get ready to go,” you said quickly, putting the spoon down. You almost ran to Eddies room grabbing your clothes and changing.

You grabbed your bag, walking down the hall to leave, but bumped into Eddie. “Well hello,” he smiled, before noticing your expression and addition of clothes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, cupping your cheek, brown eyes full of concern. “Waynes home.”

“Yeah?”

“He saw all the … the bites. I’m just a bit embarrassed, so I think I’m gonna go. You eggs are on the counter.”

“Do you want me to drive you?”

“No it’s okay, I’ll call you later.”

“Okay. But uh just so you know, Wayne doesn’t care, he loves us both, he just wants us to be safe. I know you’re embarrassed, but it’s just a thought.”

“Thanks Eds.”

“Anytime Angel.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead, gentle and light, almost like a fairy. He did the same to your mouth.

{After you left}

“So uh you a vampire now?”

“Can we not.”

“You using protection?”

“Of course.”

“Just making sure.”

“I’m not dumb.”

“Whatever you say Dracula.”

“Wayne!”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

I love you Kisses :

Lay side by side, you breathed out looking up to the beautiful night sky. Stars littered across, a crescent moon twinkling brightly, it was so lovely to look at.

“This was a good idea,” Eddie spoke from beside you. “I knew you’d like it.”

“Well I’m with you, I’d like anything.”

You rolled your eyes at your boyfriends antics, forever the flirt. You drove out to lovers lake after a long week of work. It was nice to unwind with the person you loved most.

“You remind me of the stars,” Eddie spoke.

“Huh?”

“You remind me of the stars,” he repeated.

“How so?”

“You can’t help but find them beautiful and be in awe of them, even from a billion galaxies away. I feel that way for you, I’d love you billions of galaxies away.”

“Love me?” you asked, heart thumping in your chest. “Yeah, I do, love you that is.” His face was pink, you leaned up on your elbow, smiling down at him. “I love you.”

“You do?” he questioned, almost out of breath. “I do, I love you so much.”

“I love you,” he breathed a laugh, smile breaking over his face.

His hands came to your cheeks pulling you down to meet him, lips met messily, but so lovingly. His tongue danced with yours, pulling you as close as physically possible, pouring every ounce of love and adoration into this one action.

“I love you,” he whispered against your mouth. “I love you Eddie Munson.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading!

Please leave any requests 🫶🏻

[heliosundercover]

Batboys and

how they talk about you

Bonus fic as a thank you for allowing my jason fic to do well 💋

Dick Grayson-

, who talks about you like a goddess walking the earth, loves you more than words. The type to talk about you so much that people doubt your real

 

“My girlfriend is so sweet, guys. Today we went to that one library I like. Guys, have I told you even her favorite book is adorable?”

It doesn’t help that he tends to get caught up in certain details, completely ignoring other ones. No one knew your name until a week into dating.

 

Jason: “If you asked me before, I would’ve never believed him; weve all gone a little insane, but now that Ive seen proof, I'm happy for him. He gets to be well-dick, and she gets to smile and nod, but I swear she enjoys it. They’re weird together.”

 

Tim: “We love Dick. A lot, but we were looking at a wonderful facility that has an in-patient gym in the beginning. But the way he looks at her, I wouldn’t be surprised if she actually did miracles.” 

 

Damian: “At least I believed him at the start. He was smitten and absolutely whipped. I thought it was just like Dick. I don’t know why I, of all people, was the only one that caught it.

 

Bruce: Yeah, I knew she was real. Why would I ruin everyone’s fun? I mean, Dick is a bit. Aloof sometimes… I'm not exactly surprised; he’s not exactly amazing socially sometimes, but with her, he’s extra awkward, and I watched him flirt with men and women. But look, as long as he’s happy, we’re happy for him.”

 

Dick is a completely drunken idiot, with so much training thrown out the window. 

(Can you tell I'm not a fan of a playboy dick😞 im sorry i love a good love stuck man)

 

Jason Todd-

, who is extremely protective of his peace, sometimes acts as if you’re fragile. He was the type to invite you to a family game night where he called a family meeting an hour beforehand, forcing everyone to be on their best behavior. Needless to say, it was awkward, but one uno round later, he realized you fit in just fine. 

 

“I knew my girl would win. She's a gangster.”

boast when you absolutely dominate everyone playing in the game. You never quite beat the cheating allegations.

 

Dick: "I don’t know how he did it, but he found someone who brings out a side of him I haven’t seen in years. No one is that good at uno; naturally, at least, I think she’s a meta. I'm not saying that non-metas aren’t good at uno.”

 

Tim: "You know how in movies the girl animals just have lashes, and how the boy is always darker and the girl will be like a lighter color? It's like she was made for him. I'm glad he found his anamorphic girl, Wolf. But, can I be honest? I think Alfred was telling her our cards.”

 

Damian: "I'm glad Jaybird is happy. He’s definitely earned it. Even if she cheats at UNO, they’re perfect for each other. Hell, the cheating is what makes them perfect for each other.”

 

Bruce: "I'm glad to see Jason happy. The sparkling in his eyes, the boyish smile, is the same joy I saw after he hit me with a car iron and ran off, giggling. I like her.”

 

 

Bruce Wayne-

is proud to show you off publicly. He’s not one to spoil someone, but sometimes he can’t help but pick up trinkets for you. Sometimes you’d wake up to keychains, jewelry, or even clothes somewhere in your shared room. 

 

He tried so hard to be there for you and protect you from his line of work. Some nights, he wouldn’t come to bed at all to avoid waking you. Some nights, if you worried too much, he would send Dick out in the Batman costume so he could be by your side. 

 

"Shh, baby, its ok... Tonight, I'm staying with you, okay? I love you; do you know that? And I know sometimes the risk scares you, but I’ll always be here for you.”

 

Dick: "It's nice knowing Bruce isn’t constantly brooding about it. Well, I knew that fact already, but this is different. I only see a light in his eyes when he’s doing stuff he absolutely loves. Like when he talks to his parents tombs and we pretend we don’t see him.”

 

Jason: "i think that man would come back from the dead more dramatically than I did for this woman. And I waged like 3 wars.”

 

Tim: “Sometimes I see them sitting in the library together in silence. All they do is enjoy each other’s presence. Its adorable”

 

Damian: “Dads earned it. And when I say he’s earned it, I mean he’s earned it!”

 

Bruce isn’t the easiest to be with, but he always makes up for it.

[rubra-wav]

Hii! Can I get lil sceanarios/oneshots of Vox, Husk, and Lucifer (if you write for him) where they are ranting about something thats bothering them to their crush, so they kiss him to shut them up?

I just love the thought of them being completely caught off guard and all blushy 😚😚

Thanks!

Vox, Husk and Lucifer x crush!reader shutting them up with a kiss

Cw: SFW, gn!reader, fluff

Vox

- After another public spat with Alastor (albeit, a lot less explosive then last time) Vox sits next to you bitching his head off about it, occasionally glitching and sparking as he emphasises words.

- "I can't believe that old asshole has the audacity to come after my design choices. Mine. I mean, can you believe that! They look great- right (name)?" He doesn't wait for you to respond to his question, just cuts you off as you nod and open your mouth to speak going on with his rant.

- "Exactly! My shit is perfect. It's top of the line. I wish he'd just fuck off to whatever crevice he crawled out of!"

- You inwardly sigh watching him carry on. As much as you loved to just stare at him as he animatedly talked loudly both with his voice and also his hands, it was beginning to get somewhat annoying listening to him repeat the same things over and over again while occasionally seeking reassurance from you.

- You smile slightly, looking at his lips moving as he spoke.

- You'd seen him drink and eat stuff, but how exactly did they work? If you kissed him, would it just be screen? Would he be able to feel it?

- He continued to ramble on, not noticing you had peaced out mentally about 3 minutes ago.

- Not noticing you moving your face closer to him from the corner of his eye.

- "When I get my hands on him, I'm going to beat the shit out of him! Right (name), I'd totally win, wouldn't I-" he turns to you as he asks, and suddenly he's feeling warm lips pressed against his screen over where his mouth is displayed.

- A loud binging sound is heard as Vox momentarily errors at the sudden gesture.

- You pull your lips off of him, and look at him with raised brows. "Could you feel that? All I felt was warm glass." You asked as you watched his monitor glitch and then switch back to his usual face dumbly blinking, blue flush covering his cheeks.

- As Vox gained his bearings, he glared at you. "H-hey!" He cringed at his stutter before clearing his throat. "You can't just do that out of nowhere, Doll! The fuck?"

- Vox would be pissed off and flustered you'd tried to quiet him by kissing him out of nowhere. Who the hell do you think you are essentially telling him to shut up??

- The smaller voice being squashed was yelling about how it liked the feeling of your lips on him and wanted more, though.

Husk

- The Bartender rarely got to be the one to rant about his issues, so when you showed up as someone he trusted and loved, he took the chance to complain to his heart's content.

- "And that idiotic daddy issue having child has been forcing me to play along with her delusions. I can't just say fuck off as usual because Alastor is ordering me to partake in it for his own sick fucking enjoyment!" Husk growled before taking a long sip of his drink.

- "The sooner I can get out of that shithole, the better. I can't wait for Alastor to get bored of it, I am going crazy having to participate in 'trust exercises' and 'bonding activities'" Husk emphasised each example with mock sweetness, clearly disgusted by it.

- You snorted. "What, has she been making you make arts and crafts or something?" You joked, but then grew silent when he sourly nodded.

- "Yes. She made us do hand painting like some fucking kindergarten class. There's still yellow paint stuck in my fur from where Niffty rolled in it and jumped onto me!" He turned around to show you his back, and sure enough, yellow paint clung to his fur.

- Husk went on complaining about 3 in 1 and how it wouldn't do shit for it, and that's when an impulse took over you suddenly as you watched his fuzzy cheeks move.

- Husk abruptly stopped as you leaned forward to kiss his cheek, instead catching his mouth by accident as he unconsciously turned towards you.

- It only lasts a second as you realise your error, apologising profusely. "Sorry! I meant to get your cheek!"

- Husk stutters in surprise, unable to get out any words for a long while, before coughing and turning away, unable to meet your eyes.

- He brings a hand to touch his lips, flushing darkly under his fur at the memory of your lips on his, the scent of the sweet cocktail he'd made you on your breath as it happened had him feeling dizzy.

- Christ.

- He interrupts you from where you were apologising profusely, kissing you again.

- Liquid courage tells him not to let this opportunity pass, so he doesn't.

Lucifer

- He was very down on himself about a rather failed day out with his daughter.

- The impression that he was happy and okay had fallen to bits the second he discussed how he'd tried to take Charlie to Loo Loo World only for paparazzi to storm him and lead to a series of unfortunate events ending with Charlie covered in an overly sweet drink and popcorn and having to leave.

- "And then she looked so awkward and uncomfortable when she said goodbye! My daughter hates me!" He exclaimed, burying his face in his hands.

- You shook your head, patting his shoulder and trying to tell him that wasn't true.

- "I'm the world's worst father. I caused all of hell to exist, and for someone like you to get condemned to this horrible place, and after all these mistakes, I still can't do anything right." He looked up at you, dejected, tears in his eyes.

- Your heart hurts seeing it. You just want him to stop talking about himself in such a way.

- So you do the only thing you can properly think of on the spot.

- "I'm just a failur-hff!" he hums loudly in surprise as his face is gripped, and suddenly your lips are on his.

- As he comprehends what's happening, tears well up in his eyes alongside his now pounding heart as years of him not being touched like this weigh on him all at once. It felt wonderful to be held and kissed by someone - let alone you.

- You pull away after a short time, hands gently brushing across his now even more overly warm cheeks.

- "Don't say that about yourself. You aren't a failure, Luci." You softly say. "Tell Charlie you're sorry and arrange a more private activity with her. She's your daughter, she will forgive you." Lucifer slowly nods against your hands.

- He doesn't say anything, mouth slightly parted as he looks at you with wide, lovesick eyes as his mind races alongside his heart. You're so warm.

- His hands come to rest atop your's, keeping them against his cheeks as his eyes flutter shut, basking in your touch.

- "Please just let us stay like this for a little longer." He breathily whispers. His face crumples as you nod and invite him to come closer into your arms.

- The king of hell slumps against you, craving but still hesitant to further request your touch.

Masterlist